


Distorted Affection

by ElizabethJayneCreations



Category: Pride and Prejudice & Related Fandoms, Pride and Prejudice (1995), Pride and Prejudice (2005), Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen, pride - Fandom
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-23
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:01:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 29,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26615638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElizabethJayneCreations/pseuds/ElizabethJayneCreations
Summary: A darker twist to the well-loved classic. Rejecting a man of such standing is not something to be taken lightly, and Mr Darcy has no qualms in using his resources to suit his needs. Miss Elizabeth Bennet's family is ruined, Longbourn now lost to them. She chose not to be his wife, but to keep her family together, she will have little choice but to be Mr Darcy's mistress.
Relationships: Elizabeth Bennet/Fitzwilliam Darcy
Comments: 120
Kudos: 267





	1. Mr Darcy Returns

**Distorted Affection**

_Elizabeth Jayne Creations_

_A darker twist to the well-loved classic. Rejecting a man of such standing is not something to be taken lightly, and Mr Darcy has no qualms in using his resources to suit his needs. Miss Elizabeth Bennet's family is ruined, Longbourn now lost to them. She chose not to be his wife, but to keep her family together, she will have little choice but to be Mr Darcy's mistress._

_**** _

_** Story Premise ** _

_Jane Austin painted a beautiful vision of a gentleman witnessing his own reflection in the eyes of the one he desires. After a firm and justified rejection, he strives to change and improve himself. As much as I love this story, historically, a gentleman of Mr Darcy society standing being rejected from someone of a lower social standing would be a rarity. His desire to prove himself worthy of Elizabeth always struck me as a little unrealistic, if very romantic. With so little time actually spent together, I challenge that what Mr Darcy felt for Elisabeth would be simply… Desire? Lust? The novelty of her dismissive attitude? A far cry from true love._

_In most cases I’d argue, a gentleman with such standing would have moved past the rejection, chalked it up to a fleeting mistake, a few months of heartache before moving on. However when a man is raised to believe that he should be respected, desired, a creature full of pride and conceit, emotions like hurt and rejection can have a powerful effect on a person’s actions. Austin led Mr Darcy on a route of redemption; I unfortunately will not be so kind._

_This was the 1800’s, when social status was everything and the world was cruel, even deadly, to those who fell or were born at the bottom of society. What choice would you make to save your family from such a fate? Will our characters learn that money can fundamentally mean nothing and everything._

_Dear Readers, if our Pride and Prejudice characters are untouchable to you, then sadly I don’t think this story, or possibly this site, is for you. However if a darker, possibly more realistic, journey of revenge, life and love takes your interest then settle in._

_** Setting the Scene ** _

_This story leaves Pride and Prejudice at the point of the failed proposal. Both Miss Elizabeth Bennet and Mr Darcy left immediately after and have not seen each other since. There has been no letter from Mr Darcy, no tour of Derbyshire for Elisabeth and no ruining of the Bennet family from the nefarious Mr Wickham, and no reparations reuniting Jane and Mr Bingley._

Chapter One

**_Mr Darcy Returns_ **

_Darcy House, London_

_August 1813_

"Sir, Mr Porter is here to see you," announced the footman.

"Ah yes," said Mr Darcy looking up from his pressed broadsheet, "send him in."

A tall man with a decade or so on the master of the house entered the room. Dressed as fashionably as any established lawyer, Mr Porter entered the parlour, a tightly bound leather folder tucked under his arm.

"John, I didn't expect you back so soon," addressed Mr Darcy, as he rose to meet his adviser.

"I'm here with good news," opened Mr Porter. He removed the bound folder from beneath his arm, and held it out to Mr Darcy, "Congratulations are in order. Last of it came through this morning."

"So quickly?" Mr Darcy took hold of the item with surprise.

"Aye, turns out the holder wasn't an associate as we feared so there were no qualms on their end. A few suspicions about your reasoning," Mr Porter paused, "as expected, but nothing strong enough to delay sale. Very few wouldn't mind passing on such a debt. "

"Everything is in place?" asked Mr Darcy as he gestured for his visitor to take one of the armchairs across the room.

"As instructed." Mr Porter took a seat. "Whatever your plans are, nothing stopping you now, acquired holdings and financials, you're all set to go. Certainly not the finest estate in the Darcy holdings, but additions all the same. My advice remains the same, while a few years and some care would turn a small profit, financially… this," he gestured to the folder in Mr Darcy's hands "is ill-advised."

"The financial potential, while a benefit, isn't the draw John. The Longbourn estate holds a certain commodity to me," said Mr Darcy as he swapped the folder for two tumbler glasses. "Drink?" he gestured to a decanter.

"Please. Well, whatever it is it belongs to you now. Still goes against the grain to buy a debt like this," Mr Porter said, "and in all my years working with you, I've never known you to invest in such an ill-balanced venture."

"It's not always about money," Mr Darcy quipped.

"No, that's true," Mr Porter acknowledged, "sometimes it's about a woman," he joked back. Mr Darcy froze before pouring his own beverage. His quick-eyed companion observed his host. "A woman? Really? I'll admit my surprise Darcy, I had assumed some sort of extensive revenge plot rather than matters of the heart."

"Why not both," Mr Darcy answered. His companion raised a brow.

"Here's some free advice, that I wish someone had told me back in the day. There is nothing wrong with a quiet life, nothing at all. And mixing love and war? That is not a path to it," cautioned Mr Porter.

"For the moment John," said Mr Darcy, "peace is that last thing I'm after."

"To love and war then,” Mr Porter raised his glass.

"Indeed," said Mr Darcy.

_**Merryton Hall, Hertfordshire** _

_**October 1813** _

She was laughing. Mr Darcy would recognise the sound in a ballroom four times its stature and current merriment of its inhabitants. That, it seemed, was the curse of which he aimed to be rid of. It was almost exactly two years ago that he had attended his first Merryton ball. Two years ago he first met Miss Elizabeth Bennet.

Elizabeth Bennet's eyes were alight with the enjoyment of her current dance and conversation of the evening. Her dance partner was certainly enjoying her company if his own accompanied laughs and lingering hands were to be judged.

She hadn't noticed his attendance yet. Observing her unnoticed and lively like this was a bitter pleasure Mr Darcy would reluctantly admit. Her smiles, he was certain would soon have little reason to appear. The rest of the ball's attendees were only starting to notice his attendance. While he'd thankfully managed to avoid a repeat of his last Merryton entrance having arrived as a solo party, he was certain he would be recognised and swiftly. It was something he was used to, feeling a room change in frequency like a pebble hitting still water, its effects rippling across the tongues of the balls attendants.

Two years since he'd been here, only a year however since his rejection. The humiliation had quickly given way to anger as he abandoned Rosings Park that very next day and buried himself away at Pemberley, snapping at the household staff, making even his ever-loyal housekeeper, Mrs. Reynolds, reconsider her placement at the grand house.

In a disguise of duty, he had walked his younger sister through her first season in the months following. Ball after ball, sitting through every Opera and Theatre production on the London schedule. All suitable pastimes for the gentry of a distinguished level. A far cry from the event he currently attended.

Despite the distractions, including those of a more immoral behaviour, nothing had worked.

Her refusal still reverberated, his embarrassment moulded and tempered into a calculating fury that had festered in his soul. Elizabeth Bennet. The simple country nobody who thought she could capture his heart, bring him to his knee, only to reject all he had offered.

She was laughing again, her happiness flowing through her every step, her every glide, every _look_. The lively creature he had met all those years ago still glided across this world, unaffected by the event that had turned his world upside down. Unaffected by him.

He turned away. He would allow this happiness, these sweet smiles to her supposed paramour. They wouldn't last, he had already made sure of that. He searched the edges of the ball for the man who had made his plans possible.

While the mother was displaying her usual distasteful behaviour, Mr Bennet stood braced against an eave appearing, if generously described, unwell. An empty glass was clasped in his hand, with his eyes focused on the last dregs of the drink, or something beyond the bottom of the glass, most likely the many problems the drink had failed to solve. After Mr Darcy's appearance, it certainly wouldn't be his last of the evening.

Mr Bennet had yet to notice Mr Darcy's attendance. Whether it was the constant gaze of the stern figure or possibly the rising whispers in the ballroom, something caused the elderly man to look up from his worries. If Mr Bennet had looked ill before, he certainly looked worse now as recognition overcame his countenance. Mr Darcy nodded in his direction, held his gaze, before venturing out of the hall. Mr Bennet soon followed.

A chance turn in the dance placed Elizabeth to witness Mr Darcy leaving the hall, and her step in the dance faltered.

"What is he doing here?" She spoke aloud.

"Miss Elizabeth?" Her partner questioned, the dance bringing them to the centre.

"Oh my apologies, Mr Henton, I was just…" she watched with further surprise as her very own father seemed to follow Mr Darcy out of the hall. She was unable to witness more as the dance brought her around, back to the confused Mr Henton. She collected herself to address her partner, "An…old acquaintance seems to be in attendance, forgive my surprise.” She gave a soft though slightly forced smile, “No matter Mr Henton, we were discussing your niece and nephew and your unfortunate inability to resist their requests for small trinkets. Are you determined to single-handedly lavish them with sweet treats?"

Happy to have her attention once again and on a familiar fond subject, Mr Henton, responded with enthusiasm.

While Miss Elizabeth Bennet performed her steps and necessary verbal responses for the rest of the dance, her eyes would search out that particular exit on each of her turns. Whatever could Mr Darcy mean being back in Hertfordshire.

Thank you for reading x


	2. Dealing with Mr Bennet

**_Chapter 2_ **

**_Dealing with Mr Bennet_ **

Mr Darcy followed Mr Bennet into the card room adjacent from the hall. After confirming it was fully abandoned in favour of the dancing and society next door, Mr Darcy had no qualms about closing the door behind them. While not an ideal location for this discussion, now that he was present in Merryton Mr Darcy was impatient for his plans to progress, as unpleasant as it would be.

"This is not the best place to speak." Mr Bennet spoke gruffly, "I should refuse to speak to you in such a public setting. If I wasn't so sure I would have more privacy here than in Longbourn… You, however, should not have _assumed_." He strode away and headed to the room's refreshments.

"I could put it off no longer Sir," Mr Darcy responded firmly, keeping a few steps from the door.

"Should I express my gratitude that you've waited so long?" asked Mr Bennet, as he poured himself a whiskey, sloshing the liquid in the decanter a bit as he returned it to the table. "You'll forgive me when I say I'm finding the common pleasantries a tad difficult at present. Whiskey?" Mr Bennet gestured to the abandoned decanter flippantly, walking away without waiting for an answer. Forgoing the chairs, he choose instead to stand against the wooden mantlepiece centralised in the furthest wall from the door, choosing to watch the glowing coals of the fire rather than face the other Gentleman.

"No, I'm not partaking this evening," said Mr Darcy, his disapproval apparent. Mr Bennet was clearly well into his drink and showed no signs of restraint in the proceedings of this conversation.

"Not even to raise a glass to your victory?" Mr Bennet tipped his glass to the other gentleman mockinsgly before taking a swig, returning his gaze back into the fire.

Unknown to Mr Bennet, the true victory was yet to be won, so while Mr Darcy may indeed raise a glass in the future, that wouldn't take place tonight. "I take no joy in your circumstances, this is simply a business matter that has prospered in my favour, and diminished in yours," stated Mr Darcy.

Mr Bennet scoffed but saw no reason to respond. Annoyed by this dismissive response, Mr Darcy continued, "Although few men would have taken the risks you did with so little in essence that they could afford to part with. Your less than favour-some outcome, sir, is of your own making." This direct affront finally drew Mr Bennet's attention, the normally sedate man to turn coarse eyes on the younger gentleman. Mr Darcy was not deterred, "I repeat that I take no joy in witnessing or

taking part in such an event, especially with my brief acquaintance of your family," continued Mr Darcy, "but the outcome remains the same. You have lost your family home. Your family is in financial disrepair."

"I would never have risked the land!" Mr Bennet cut back, "The land I believed to be safe until my death, no matter my investments, no matter my follies. The investments were already made when the entail was released. You have no right to disparage me when you clearly know nothing of my state of affairs!"

Mr Darcy gave a firm nod, "Your success with the entail was untimely, I admit." This appeased the elder gentleman slightly, his gaze turning away once again.

"That blasted entail. I am to be applauded Sir," Mr Bennet claimed blithely, "I single-handedly saved my family from the dreaded hedgerows for," he pretended to consider, "a whole fortnight? A week more? Simply to direct them there myself a decade early. _Untimely,_ " Mr Bennet scoffed. A dwindling log in the fireplace sparked, a flighting ember landed on the hearth, its glow extinguished by Mr Bennet's sharply placed foot. "Yes, it certainly was _untimely,_ " He sneered the word.

"My apologies, I didn't mean to diminish your misfortunes," Mr Darcy spoke bluntly, as politeness required but there was no true sympathy there. So it was no surprise when Mr Bennet ignored his apology.

"And you," Mr Bennet turned to face him fully, "you're late to collect your prize; I've been awaiting your express for a near two months now. Most gentlemen would come at a gallop, not a walk, to collect their purchase."

Mr Darcy nodded, "That is true sir, however, I wasn't the original owner of the debt, the transition created a small delay. And, on receipt of the full accounts and the Longbourn property, I felt a rush was rather unnecessary given the circumstances. The loss the property would make in the spare months would be inconsequential."

"I expect it would be for you. Makes me wonder at your interest in taking on such a debt in the first place? Was it the guilt of our slight acquaintance that deserved a month or two or an abundance of weighty money that slowed you down?" joked Mr Bennet in poor humour.

Deliberately skating over the former question, for Mr Darcy doubted that would be an answer favourably received by Miss Elizabeth's father, Mr Darcy responded to the second. Most gentleman of Mr Darcy's acquaintance would of shown at least some appreciation in his delay in him collecting his property, but no not a Bennet. Like Father, like daughter, no gratitude or respect for what he offered.

"It was a consideration Mr Bennet, that most gentleman would have appreciated, allowing time to provide your family's arrangements," he replied pointedly. With no gratitude or change in attitude forthcoming from Mr Bennet he continued " My reasons are my own, the facts remains Sir that the property now belongs to me. That is the outcome of your …unfortunate investment and mismanagement of your affairs-" said Mr Darcy cuttingly. Mr Bennet span round, his drink glass slamming on top of the mantelpiece.

"-I was trying to secure a better future for my daughters, not throwing money away in the gambling rooms of _St James_." Mr Bennet spat back.

"The outcome remains the same," said Mr Darcy unforgiving. "Your wife, daughters are unaware?"

"Of course they are unaware," answered Mr Bennet laughing bitterly, “you think we’d be here if they knew? No I haven’t told anyone yet. Oh you disapprove do you? You need not answer, you would not fare well in the card rooms yourself. You believe I should tell my wife, my wife who is well known for decorum and discretion, who of course would be able to move among our society without damaging our daughters remaining chances in these last few months. Now who is the fool." He shook his head at the thought. "My daughters? The youngest likewise are too foolish and silly to know the damages they would do in the remaining weeks of our gentility, they are but children-"

"-You elder daughters," Interrupted Mr Darcy.

"My elder daughters, I grant you, have no such traits. But my burdens will become theirs soon enough, should I have enforced upon them a pressure, a solution to marry? Neither has a paramour and a pressure to find one would do no good. And should I wish my daughter to marry any man that should offer, a life of almost certain unhappiness to save our family? While to your standards poor, both Jane and Elizabeth would attract many unsuitable suitors. I have certainly cautioned many away from them over the years, unknown to my dear wife of course."

Taken aback and with evident disapproval, Mr Darcy questioned, "You would not consider it their duty? Their duty to lift the strain on their family by making a match? You would support them in spurning offers, offers that would have brought relief to your family?"

"Duty? You speak of their duty, when I have so clearly failed in _my duty_ to protect and provide. By example, why should they feel any sense of duty at all?” replied Mr Bennet, finally taking one of the available chairs. Mr Darcy remained standing. "I wonder how much duty would mean to you if you had a daughter? Maybe those of _your standing_ are simply lacking emotion towards their offspring. What is happiness after all when you can have fine china at every meal and a new gown for every occasion."

"I would forgive a daughter fine china, but a roof, security, food on the table? A daughter should have some level of care and responsibility for her family." expressed Mr Darcy. It was this particular standpoint he was counting on, so to hear Mr Bennet argue against it was slightly concerning. His whole plan was based on the belief that Elizabeth would not forsake her family, no matter the cost to herself.

"Of course you would." tsked Mr Bennet, "I, however, would rather my children be happy as I live and leave this earth. Alas, I expect my two eldest hold no such sense of inequitable justice and share a view similar to your own. Oh I am sure they will make their sacrifice for the family, though they should not and I certainly shall not encourage it." Mr Bennet looked completely defeated at the thought, "I can only thank the stars that at least the abominable route of Mr Collins isn't still an option for my Lizzy. I would have her or my Jane in service before a life at that man's side."

Mr Darcy couldn't believe what he was hearing, that _creature_ of a man Mr Collins, had offered for his Elizabeth, even before he himself had done so! Such a different path their lives would have taken, to have been forced to visit his aunt and witness Elizabeth as that particular parson's wife, knowing that a man so below his sense and status in life would be enjoying what he so desired, such an unthinkable path. And yet, he admitted silently to his darker self, by the standards of society it would have been an honourable path for Elizabeth, something he no longer planned to offer himself.

"So, how long?" asked Mr Bennet, drawing Mr Darcy from his own thoughts.

"The end of the week, Sir," Mr Bennet closed his eyes, but gave a firm nod, rising once more and heading to the comforting structure of the fireplace, "though I shall require the deed and further documentation in relation to the debt to be delivered to me tomorrow. You have made some arrangements already I would hope?" questioned Mr Darcy.

"Oh yes, do not concern yourself now Mr Darcy, I have managed to scatter my family like the penniless relatives we are," said Mr Bennet.

"Your daughters, what are your plans - ? " asked Mr Darcy.

"- I believe we can conclude this little exchange now don't you. “ Mr Bennet cut him off bluntly, having no wish for this man to know more of his family’s affairs. “You'll have your deed and whatnot tomorrow. "

"Yes Sir,” Mr Darcy bit back his further questions, knowing he had no recourse to further press on the family’s plans. “I shall expect the documents tomorrow. Goodnight."

The short obligatory inclination of the head from Mr Darcy went unnoticed as Mr Bennet didn't even turn his gaze away from the fire.

Mr Darcy swiftly left the room, it was an unpleasant conversation, but a necessary one. His blood still high from the exchange, he heading back to the ballroom. He had another Bennet he needed to approach this evening. It was time to speak to Miss Elizabeth.


	3. A Perfect Gentleman

Chapter 3

**A Perfect Gentleman**

Elizabeth was being watched. She wouldn’t have been able to describe it if anyone had asked, but she felt it, the exact moment Mr Darcy had returned to the ballroom.. When the dance had turned to allow her to look around the room, she spotted him. Yes, Mr Darcy was staring at her with no disguise to hide his attentions. Whatever could the man mean, Elizabeth though, by staring so accusatory at her, in a society ballroom none the less!

She was currently dancing a second set with Mr Henton, an offer she had taken to warmly. She would admit, though only to herself, that she had made an extra effort on her appearance when getting ready with him in mind. He was a kind gentleman who had recently purchased a small estate in the next town over. She had felt his favour towards her grow over their short acquaintance, evidenced even more by his repeated attendance in Merryton society as opposed to his more local circle. She hadn’t quite painted his full character over the last few weeks or even closely examined her own feelings regarding the gentleman to any great degree, but their conversations were so consistently lively and warm that she welcomed any further chance to get to know him better.

Even with all this possibility, she had unconsciously abandoned this direction of thought tonight. Her mind was now firmly distracted. She should have felt excited by the attention of her back to back dances with a possible suitor, but instead she’d spent the last half an hour wondering what on earth her father and Mr Darcy had to discuss. Now she was equally distracted by the same man and had spent the last fifteen minutes in her dance partner's arms trying to ignore Mr Darcy whose evident gaze was determined to be fixed upon her as she and her dance partner finished the remaining steps of the set. Mr Henton, to his credit, hadn’t faulted with his less than attending company and tried his best to carry Elizabeth through their conversations, even when his own attention shifted to the rather insistent gentleman staring at his dance partner.

With the dance coming to an end the couple dispersed from the floor. Elizabeth was adamantly not looking over to where Mr Darcy was stood still observing the couple, and smiled gently at Mr Henton to tell him she’d enjoyed the dance.

“Yes, it was lively wasn’t it, I think now I should see you safely back to your mother though Miss Elizabeth, even the great Elizabeth Bennet is in need of some refreshment after two dances I would think?” Mr Henton teased. Miss Elizabeth smiled kindly, appreciating his attention.

“That would be much appreciated. I boast a lively constitution Sir, but even for the great Elizabeth Bennet,” She joked, “two dances consecutively has me scouting out a seat, even from a worthy dance partner as yourself. My toes have never faired so well from the exertion, for that sir I must express my sincere thanks.” Mr Henton laughed fondly, looking pleased his partner's wit and at the credit she had bestowed on him.

“I am only sorry to hear you have been cruelly abused in the past then Miss Bennet, I can only advise that you pick your dance partners with careful consideration in future, perhaps a known experienced dancer such as myself?” his eyes sparkled with mischief as he walked her back to her mother.

“Alas us females have little choice in polite society but to accept all dance offers, even those that put our toes at risk.” she winced dramatically as if remembering a painful memory, an energetic Mr Collins sprang to mind for her inspiration.

“It’s a trying world indeed for young ladies, forced so precariously into battle, toes unprotected against such violent assault.” Mr Henton teased.

“We weather it the best we can Sir, as do our toes.” she joked back. They had reached her mother who for once was showing a level of decorum at her daughter successfully achieving two dances from an eligible gentleman.

“I’ll return, fair warrior, with your refreshments,” he bowed and left Elizabeth with her family.

“Oh Lizzy, that was well done, well done indeed! What a fine gentleman Mr Henton is!” Mrs Bennet rejoiced, “He seems so fond of you dear, even with your peculiar manners. But do try and watch that sharp tongue of yours child, no gentleman wants a bluestocking for a wife!”

“Yes mother, I will do my very best to remove any sense of my personality for fear of scaring away Mr Henton.” Elizabeth rolled her eyes, sharing a pointed look with Jane who simply smiled at her sister's sarcasm.

“Oh shush Lizzy, you know perfectly well what I mean. If only he was interested in you Jane dear, you Jane at least know how to act among potential suitors,” she glared at the younger daughter who simply rolled her eyes again.

“He obviously favours Lizzie’s cleverness and lively temperament mother, as well all do” said Jane while Elizabeth gave her a grateful look, “and while I like Mr Henton much from our short acquaintance, I feel he and Lizzy are much better suited.” Elizabeth shot Jane a soft look of betrayal.

“Not you too Jane, we are all new friends with Mr Henton, and he has simply shown an interest in…continuing the connection, I’m sure he’ll be asking you to dance next Jane,” said Elizabeth, decidedly wanting to brush off any preference so early in their acquaintance however she might enjoy his company and whatever little good it would do to stop her mother hearing wedding bells after a few meetings and dances.

“Continuing the connection indeed, if you are not careful Lizzie this will be Mr Collins all over again,” Mrs Bennet sighed in suffrage, “I am too old to have all my daughters unmarried, you do not know how I suffer, my nerves girls. And if it was not for that scheming Miss Lucas-”

“Mother!” corrected Elizabeth, but was swiftly ignored.

“at least one of my daughters would have been married. But you have always been a selfish creature Lizzie, no thoughts of your family. Now I have to spend my weeks hearing Mrs Lucas crow again and again about how Mrs Collins fares. It is more than any mother should have to take.”

“Mother you are upsetting yourself,” calmed Jane, keeping her voice low, “our situations isn’t what it once was Ma, none of us needed to be married to Mr Collins or any such man anymore. Even you have admitted on occasion you found his mannerisms somewhat insulting Mama, remember how he described our day room.”

“I suppose that is true, that was a remark too far as I said at the time,” both Jane and Elizabeth exchanged a look, remembering quite vividly how Mr Collins could do no wrong in Mrs Bennet’s eyes at the time, “but it does not help me with Mrs Lucas does it, not when your own father has forbidden me to discuss it with her. Forbidden me I say! Instead I have five daughters, far more beautiful and accomplished than hers, and no weddings to speak of! And not a one of you has any sympathy for my nerves,” Mrs Bennet fanned herself, acting agitated, ignoring all attempts by her daughters to soothe and shush her.

“Ma please-”

“Oh shhh Lizzie, he’s coming back,” she gave Elizabeth a little push forward as she herself had a miraculous recovery from her agitation, and was now ready to receive Mr Henton who could be seen carrying refreshments.

“Oh how kind you are sir, so kind, my Lizzie will be most grateful for your attentions. See look Lizzie, look at what Mr Henton has brought you, thank the gentleman Lizzie,” said Mrs Bennet.

“Yes, Mr Henton, as my mother has most thoroughly expressed,” She gave him a look of apology, “I am indeed thankful for my drink.” Elizabeth took the offered beverage, a pink tinge on her cheeks in embarrassment. Mr Henton simply seemed amused at the matchmaking woman’s words, and smiled softly at Elizabeth as she took a drink and then placed it on the near table.

“I hope it aids in your recovery quickly, I have no doubt you’ll have another dance partner lined up after me.” Mr Henton was no longer looking so jovial as he stared past Elizabeth. “of that I believe I can be certain.”

“Actually no, my next one is thankfully empty, but I think I shall -”

“Miss Elizabeth, you are looking well this evening.” spoke the familiar baritone voice from behind her.

“Mr Darcy,” she greeted, surprised to find him closer than expected as she turned around to face him, “I’m surprised to see you return to Merryton.” Then remembering her manners, she dropped her head in greeting to which Mr Darcy returned before turning toward her family.

“Mrs Bennet, Miss Bennet a pleasure to see you again.” Thankfully her mother seemed too surprised at Mr Darcy’s return to do anything but return the greeting. “I have business in the area Miss Elizabeth, and thought I’d take the time to reacquaint myself with society here.” Mr Darcy said, pausing to look straight at her for a moment before moving his gaze to Mr Henton who stood behind her. “And those new to Merryton of course.”

“My apologies,” Elizabeth blushed at her society faux pas, “Mr Darcy, may I introduce Mr Henton, he is new to our society but very welcome.” She gave Mr Henton a warm smile, which did not go unnoticed. The gentleman both gave polite bows as society demands, but were clearly observing each other.

“Mr Darcy,” spoke Mrs Bennet, over her short-lived stupor, “you are most welcome back in Merryton. Do you return alone? We have missed your friend Mr Bingley’s delightful company, haven’t we Jane?” Jane looked like she’d rather be anywhere but Merryton right now, “and he still will be welcome to dine with us if he would choose to visit, what is time between old neighbours… you’d be welcome too of course Mr Darcy, if you’d like, should Mr Bingley decide to visit.” Mr Darcy again had the delightful experience of being reminded of the exact reasons he had so laboured over his first proposal to Miss Elizabeth, to be connected to such a…woman.

“Mr Bingley and his sisters have not accompanied me and I don’t believe they have any plans to visit the area. When I do see him again I shall pass on your…kind words,” he turned away from Mrs Bennet swiftly dismissing her, “Miss Elizabeth, I believe you have the next set free, would you do me the honour?” He held out his hand expectantly.

“I -Mr Darcy I,” Elizabeth tried to decline.

“My daughter would be delighted, wouldn’t you Lizzie, all my daughters are fine dancers, including my Jane, Mr Henton, should you be inclined of course to continue dancing yourself sir,” declared Mrs Bennet, and for once, Mr Darcy though, he found Mrs Bennets foul manners bearable now they worked in his favour. The band was setting up to play the next set and played the chime to announce the dances should make their way into formation.

“Shall we, Miss Elizabeth?” not removing his offering hand. She gave a reluctant nod, taking his hand. She heard Mr Henton make an amicable offer to Jane to dance to Mrs Bennet’s joy.

“I guess we shall,” she mumbled to herself, feeling Mr Darcy’s hand tightening over hers as he directed her over to the dance floor.


	4. A Dance of More than Words

Chapter 4

A Dance of More than Words

It was simply a dance Elizabeth consoled herself, as Mr Darcy firmly guided them across the ballroom into the starting position. This coerced agreement felt oddly reminiscent of their first dance together. Faced, once again, with the rather imposing and unwelcome figure that was Mr Darcy.

Where her dance with Mr Henton was all that was pleasing anticipation, taking this position filled her with a different sort of anticipation all together. She could feel his gaze on her as they spent the opening minutes completing the steps in silence. Still strongly the reluctant partner, she refused to look at him directly, choosing a convenient absence over his shoulder.

“Come Miss Elizabeth, I believe we must have some conversation.” Mr Darcy it seemed was likewise remembering their first dance. Now that he had demanded her conversation, she strongly contemplated ignoring him for the full 30 minutes, though it might make finding out his business with her father a touch more difficult, in that moment she couldn’t bring herself to care.

“Miss Elizabeth.” He was chastising her. For her silence? Her stubborn reluctance to look at him? For calling him ungentlemanly all those months ago when she was currently considering being possible equally rude? Granted the latter was a little crude to chastise her in a ballroom. And yet, at that very moment their last encounter was all Elizabeth could think about and she wondered if the same scenes were cutting through his mind. Her own emotions although tempered by time resurfaced so eagerly in his very presence. If anything, seeing Jane enjoying her dance with Mr Henton simply reminded her how solemn her sister had been since Netherfield had been occupied, and how different things could have been for her. In fact this was the first dance she’d seen her elder sister enjoy and not just simply… partake. She reconsidered her own partner, though more his lapels than his face, if only she herself could likewise be so happily engaged in the dance as her sister.

His tightening hand on hers pulled her closer and now she couldn’t avoid him as the dance and his guiding hands brought them together, a touch closer than the dance needed and instantly she had to resist the urge to take a step back. With little options she finally met his eyes and his own gaze, like his hold, brooked no escape.

“Eliza-”

“-You have come to the agreement then, to converse while dancing?” she challenged him, if he wanted conversation so much she would have to oblige.

Now it was Mr Darcy’s turn to hesitate, at this rather abrupt change in tune. “It was once pointed out to me that sometimes it is best,” replied Mr Darcy with a small nod to her, although he seemed eager to get the conversation more on comfortable ground, he lowered his voice and continued, “especially if you prefer to have some discretion in a ballroom.”

“Discretion?” Elizabeth startled, her cheeks helplessly flushing, he couldn’t really mean to discuss –, if he did she certainly wouldn’t be partaking “Mr Darcy really, I cannot think of two people with less to say to each other that hasn’t already been said,” Elizabeth spoke firmly, her blush cemented as, if possible, their exchanged words all those months ago started to dance in her mind, “let alone a conversation that requires further conversing _in a public dance hall_ ,” she further chastised him. Mr Darcy gave a grim smile as she backed away in the dance, the necessary steps giving her the retreat she so desperately needed from this conversation. A bit too quickly for the dance, Mr Darcy’s grip pulled her back to him, lightening only as they exchanged places in the dance.

“Oh have no fear Miss Bennet,” His voice lowered, “that _particular conversation_ shall not be repeated.”

Well her embarrassment was complete. While it wasn’t polite company to just abandon a dance partner in the middle of a set, and something Elizabeth could never have previously imagined partaking in, she rather seriously considered doing just that. Society and gossip be damned. Especially as it seemed Mr Darcy held none of her embarrassment himself at the mention of their past exchange.

If, indeed, she was not so much mistaken he seemed to be enjoying her rather panicked and scandalised reaction. His stern eyes so focused on her reactions, his normally frowned lips just tinged with uplift. But his secrets were there one second and gone the next.

He must have sensed her desire to flee, as when he caught her once more in the dance, the grip was back, his hand on her back firm and entrapping.

“Then Sir,” She scarcely controlled her voice, “I misunderstand your meaning.” His responding smile then, equally quick and fleeting, actually made her miss a step.

“We are old friends are we not, is there nothing of which you’d like to converse with me about?”

“Sir-” She objected, eyes wide, too taken aback by the obvious lie.

“-come now Miss Elizabeth, what shall we speak of? I do hope we shall not have to resort to speaking of books, you having such a dislike for the topic so.” His tone remained stern, but his eyes, his words, Elizabeth couldn’t shake the feeling he was baiting her, even teasing her into conversation. Well in that case, there was only one thing she really wanted to know right now, and really it certainly wasn’t a question she should ask.

“If you wish for conversation, I could enquire to what business you have with my father?” retorted Elizabeth boldly, holding herself strong as the dance brought them to the middle. Mr Darcy actually smiled again, pleased at her social impermissible prying, as he turned her away from him and spoke from behind her.

“Ah to discuss my private business with your father would _indeed_ require more discretion than this public ballroom allows. No Miss Elizabeth, unfortunately I feel that your father, and him alone, should be the one to decide whether to speak of our private exchange.” To Elizabeth’s ear he almost sounded regretful, although when the dance brought them back to face to one another his face was empty of such an emotion, or any identifiable expression to her eyes, it simple appeared intense. “At a future date,” He continued, “should you and your father have such a discussion, I would be open, to you in particular, to conversing further on the subject.”

Completely lost now and fully aware that to push further on two gentlemen’s private exchanges would be a shade too uncouth, even for a daughter of Mrs Bennet. With the only topic of interest to her now firmly out of reach she felt no need to answer him, or such start a new topic of conversation as would be expected of her.

“But come now, Miss Elisabeth” He spared her from responding, “we must not ignore the pleasantries,” he said, stepping to the side as he joined his hand to hers once more, more gently than before, “ and besides, like you object to speaking of your books, I cannot speak of business in a ballroom.”

Pleasantries. This man, who had dismissed everyone here as beneath him, who had clearly displayed his own capacity of rudeness, had entwined himself into gaining a dance from her against her will, was calling her out on her lack of pleasantries? He was infuriating.

“Sir, -”

“You haven’t, for example, asked after my family.” interrupted Mr Darcy, a stretch to say jovially wounded, but a fair distance from his familiar stern tone. Not appreciating the change in tone, Elizabeth gave him her own stern look. “I however, have the good fortune to be able to see most of your family seem in fine health this evening, rather makes my side of the pleasantries redundant don’t you think?”

Now she remained stubbornly silent.

“Miss Elizabeth…” He whispered bringing her to the centre “what would your mother say?” Now, at that suggestion, she felt the ground begin to firm under her feet and her confidence rise again. Now it was her turn to smile, taking Mr Darcy back so completely that it was now his step that faltered.

“Mr Darcy, it heartens me so greatly to see that you find my mother’s society conduct so efficient that you wish me to emulate it, shall I endeavour to do so for the remainder of our dance?” She looked at him, an eyebrow raised in challenge.

His own answering wince was not exactly subtle.

“No,” He answered quickly, “Miss Elizabeth that is, not quite, what I meant,” He gave her a pointed look. “No, I simple ask that I be somewhat graced with the unobjectable social graces that I have seen you bestow on many a fellow man on the occasions that I’ve had the pleasure of experiencing your company in society.” Elizabeth looked away, willing the tinge of truth to flee before she faced him. “Our acquaintance has had a greater effect on you than I had expected. I had hoped that time might have soothed our altercation to a point where we could at least be… pleasant to one another?” To Elizabeth’s distress, Mr Darcy almost sounded reasonable. This apparent olive branch, even so chastisedly given, was something even she couldn’t rightly ignore, mothers daughter or not.

She kept her voice solid and not cowed but even she could bent when needed “Your attendance and your rather direct… re-acquaintance surprised me somewhat.” That Elizabeth was willing to concede. “Your family Mr Darcy, are they well?”

“Yes they are rather well. Of note those of your acquaintance especially, the Colonel Fitzwilliam and my Cousin Anne have decided to marry. It is an agreement that suits both of them well I believe. My sister and I hope that they shall find happiness with each other.”

“Yes forgive me Charlotte, that is Mrs Collins, had written to me of such a match, I believe they are to marry next spring?”

“Ah Mrs Collins, I had forgotten that you may be better informed. Yes, in the spring, should my cousin’s health allow of course. It is hoped by then that my Aunt shall have come around to the match.”

“Ah from memory I believe she had…” Elizabeth trailed off, looking at Mr Darcy briefly, unable to really finish her trailing tongue politely.

“Another suiter intended” Mr Darcy finished for her, giving her a pointed look, taking on a suffering tone. “Unfortunately and expectantly, my Aunt has been taken quite ill with the news. However it was soon made quite clear to her that other options would not take place and that she must accept the decisions of the couple.”

“Well I certainly wish them all the happiness.” Elizabeth responded politely. A familiar soft laugh cut through the conversations in the hall. Jane. Instantly the sound soother her. She looked over to her elder sibling, it was a fresh joy to see Jane so happy, but it brought other questions to mind. Mr Darcy also followed her gaze.

“And Mr Bingley,” She queried quietly, fearing her question would physically take hold of Jane’s joy and brutally snuff it out, “his sisters, have you news in regards to them?”

Mr Darcy gave a slight nod. “To the sisters, the Hurst family I have seen little of, but seem well to do on the few occasions I have shared with them. Miss Bingley still retains her name, despite her many efforts, but is hoping for a successful season next year. On Mr Bingley I have more news.” At this he paused, but continued in his matter of fact tone. “He is recently married, to a Miss Howard. She comes from a well-respected family.” He paused to look at his audience to gage her reaction, “The couple, in truth, seem well suited to each other.”

“I’m glad.” Elizabeth stated boldly, trying to firmly ignore the twinge of sadness and already wondering when the best time would be to tell Jane. Not tonight, she would not spoil her sister’s night.

Irritation flashed across Mr Darcy’s face.

“You can’t possibly be glad Eli- _Miss_ Elizabeth, Mr Bingley would have been a great match for your sister; I can’t possibly see why you would be happy at all.” Of course, Elizabeth thought, in his eyes Jane Bennet for all her beauty and kindness was as poor as a dormouse, why should her sister’s happiness be a contending factor when wealth was on the table. Infuriating man.

“Shouldn’t everyone be glad a young couple who, if what you say is true, are well suited and have found each other.” Elizabeth spoke lightly, as if the news had glided past her.

“Come now Miss Elisabeth I was speaking of your sister-”

“- _my sister_ deserves a man who loves her, someone who values her, and while I strongly detested your interference in the matter at the time, Mr Darcy, as I made clear…Mr Bingley made his choice. Jane is…Jane. There will be other suiters. Someone who will see my sister’s worth.”

“Possibly.” He looked towards Mr Henton and Elizabeth couldn’t help but feel a twinge of something in her stomach as they both looked over to the couple enjoying the dance. She shook it off, she was glad Jane was enjoying herself, even if she herself was currently suffering. “Maybe you are not too upset because your sister doesn’t seem too affected by her loss.” Mr Darcy commented bluntly, returning his gaze accusingly, “and indeed Mr Henton seems to be well received by both the Bennet sisters.”

As much as her words demurred she felt her cheeks flush at the insinuation. “Mr Henton has become a good friend since his move to the area.” responded Elizabeth, “He has a kind heart that he has shown to all the members of my family.”

“I can see that.” Mr Darcy said, “I truly wish _your sister_ all the best to his attentions.” He turned her into his arm and back out again, catching her lightly at her waist, keeping his gaze on her own. Elizabeth wanted to correct him, to tell him it was her that she believed it was herself that had built up the connection with Mr Henton, not Jane. But she did not know her own heart, let alone Mr Hentons. Or Jane, who danced so happily with him. Mr Darcy was still searching her face, almost expecting her correction, but as there was nothing she could say she reminded silent. And yet whatever he read on her face, didn’t seem to please him too much.

“I have not spotted your younger sisters here tonight?” asked Mr Darcy, moving the conversation away from the new neighbour. Miss Elizabeth hesitated a little before answering.

“You would not.” Realising her short response was bordering on rudeness, she admitted, “They are not attending this evening.”

“Oh? They are not unwell I hope?” The very words of polite society from Mr Darcy. Unfortunately for Elizabeth, it led to some need for expansion. If Mr Darcy was to remain in the area, he would indeed note her younger sister’s absences.

“Recently, my father has decided to take a firmer hand with them and now restricts their society outings to only close friends and family,” she responded.

“For the benefit of you and your elder sister, you perhaps?” And for the benefit of all in attendance, he tone seemed to suggest.

Elizabeth protested. “Simply for my sisters I believe. I’ll grant, it was an unusual declaration from my father, and one that was not favourably met by those involved. However my younger sisters are of lively and youthful disposition, as you, and I’m sure anyone who has met them, will attest to.” She paused allowing the obvious unspoken agreement that their behaviour hasn’t always been to society standards. “But at the core they are kind hearted and in time I believe they will move well in society. It is those who suffer from sternness and a desire to form not friendships but advancements, that are to be pitted in my experience. Growth in character is so rare beyond the errors allowed in youth.”

“Do you speak of anyone in particular Miss Elisabeth.” Again his hand guiding her through the dance crossover pressed a little too firmly for her liking, deliberately she assumed as she looked into his dark eyes.

She blushed looking down at her feet, her intent to shame him and those of his acquaintance was thinly vailed granted, but she wasn’t bold enough to state it outright, “If I did,” She braced herself and met Mr Darcy’s gaze as she released his hand “it would not be kind of me to say so.”

Darcy just kept staring at her accusingly as he bowed, almost daring her to look away first. Part of Elizabeth wanted to lie, to say Miss Bingley was to whom she was solely inferring, just to soothe over the tension she had created. She held her tongue and her more importantly her nerve and kept his gaze as she curtsied.

The applause filled the room, as the dancers celebrated the musicians. Elizabeth shook herself from Mr Darcy’s accusing gaze to bring a late applause from herself, looking towards the bowing musicians. Mr Darcy had likewise started the social practise, but when Elizabeth glanced back to him, he was still searching her out.

“Thank you for the dance Miss Bennet, I hope it wasn’t too strenuous for you, having proving such a popular dance partner tonight.” The words spoken by anyone else would have been a complement and yet from him, felt like an accusation.

“No of course not, it was …my pleasure.” It was anything but, but Elisabeth was certain she’d made an effort to keep it out of her voice.

Not quite it seemed, as Mr Darcy grabbed her hand forcefully and tucked it on his arm.

“I will escort you back to your family and leave you to enjoy the rest of your evening.” He paused. “I will be remaining in the area for some time, especially with my business with your family. I am looking forward to our next meeting Elisabeth.” Elizabeth was so taken aback she didn’t know what to say. It was of little matter anyway as almost as soon as he had spoken he moved them so suddenly across the room to her family that Elizabeth struggled to keep up.

Ignoring the greeting of the jovial couple that the returning Jane and Mr Henton made, Mr Darcy barely had her back in place before bowing shortly and taking his leave. Elizabeth watched him not just vacate her company, but that of the entire hall as he left the ballroom.

It was only after witnessing his exit and allowing the sounds of her family conversing to surround her that she started to process his words and felt her whole body tense.

She didn’t know what had affected her more, the prospect of Mr Darcy having business with her family, or that he had addressed her by her Christian name.

It could mean nothing. But then why was every instinct telling her it meant everything.


	5. Foraging for Something More

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seriously thank you so much for all the support, especially those who have left a comment, each and every word is cherished. Every kudos and bookmark is so appreciated and keeps me writing. xxx Hope you enjoy!

**Chapter 5**

**Foraging for Something More**

Elizabeth gasped as her father turned towards her. He looked like a wraith of himself as he watched his family enter the carriage, his hand clasping his head as his wife’s tirade filled the coach.

“Do hurry up Lizzy,” started Mrs Bennet as she followed her younger daughter into the carriage with Jane trailing the group. “Being fetched by the footman to leave, really Mr Bennet, what on earth will our neighbours think!”

“Father are you well?” Elizabeth asked, taking the seat opposite him and placing her hand on his knee.

“Why, I was just speaking to Mrs Farrow,” continued Mrs Bennet “and telling her all about Mr Henton and either of our daughters, and what a good match that would be.” She tapped on the side of the carriage with her fan, “Drive on! Drive on! Oh lord, what will Mr Henton think of us now with being fetched by that footman to leave. Really Mr Bennet what on earth could-”

“-Mother,” interrupted Jane, which in itself was out of character enough, but having also noticed how ill her father looked, Jane further placed a calming hand laid on Mrs Bennet’s arm, halting her spiel.

“Father?” Elisabeth repeated.

“I…” Mr Bennet cleared his throat, giving his girls a small smile and spoke softly, “I am well, I’ve indulged a little too much tonight that is all, do not worry.” He turned back to the carriage window.

“Unwell! Really Mr Bennet, if you hadn’t drunk so much we wouldn’t be leaving so early, Jane could have danced _at least_ another dance.”

“No mother,” Jane answered somewhat firmly, before smiling her gentle smile at her father, “I am quite exhausted, I don’t think I could have danced another step. And Lizzy was also just saying that she wanted to leave.”

“It has been a somewhat eventful and tiring evening Mama,” confirmed Elisabeth.

“Yes yes, you had to dance with that miserable Mr Darcy you dislike so much.” Mr Bennet turned around at hearing that snippet to consider his younger child. “But really Lizzy,” his wife continued, “if you want any chance of keeping Mr Henton’s attention you’d do well to smile more at other eligible men. Not frown as miserably as you did. Men like a bit of competition. What’s he to know that Mr Darcy is too proud and considers you not tempting enough,”

“I simply prefer,” Elisabeth censured, “to _choose_ who I am to dance with Mama, and I would appreciate it in future if you did not answer on my behalf.” Mrs Bennet tutted, turning her fan in her hands, seemingly about to continue her lecture.

“You danced with Mr Darcy?” Mr Bennet cut through the conversation, his voice now steady and firm.

“Yes Father, he was… quite insistent.” Elizabeth bit her lip, knowing that there were plenty of questions she had for her father but now wasn’t the time. Mr Bennet likewise looked like he wanted to question her further, but one glance at his wife was enough of a reminder to hold those for now.

“And you Jane dear, did you dance with our unpopular Mr Darcy?” Mr Bennet asked, giving another glance towards Elisabeth.

“Of course not,” Mrs Bennet answered, “she didn’t have time since we were dragged from the hall so abruptly Mr Bennet. How do you expect our girls to marry when you drag them away from eligible dances?” Mrs Bennet huffed, taken by such a great suffering. Elizabeth rolled her eyes but held her tongue.

“I believe Mr Darcy left straight after dancing with Lizzy, so our leaving had nothing to do with filling my dance card with his name,” Jane teased, but Mr Bennet just looked more concerned causing Jane to reaffirm, “Really Father, I don’t mind.”

Mr Bennet forced a smile back and turned to look at Elizabeth again, who quite frankly was now stealing her father’s technique of staring out the window where she stubbornly remained for the rest of the journey.

Like most mornings after a ball most of the residents of the Bennet household were still resting the morning away. Elizabeth, however cursed or blessed, was fundamentally unable to sleep once the sun-soaked through her window. As the weather was favourable, despite her own slight weariness of the late evening previous, she dressed for a walk.

She grabbed a basket as she passing through the kitchen on her way out, smiling at Annie and Mrs Hill as they got started on their morning chores. Picking berries and herbs might not be what most daughters of gentleman did, but Elizabeth, who loved to stretch her legs, found a comfort and exhilaration in the simple hunt for edible wares, and that it saved a chore for the two servants was an added benefit.

There was a lovely little autumn route that allowed her to spend the morning picking wild raspberries, Jane’s favourite, sloe berries ripe for making Mrs Hills winter gin and a small bunch of mushrooms she’d had her eye on for the past week that looked ready for picking. It was late in the morning by the time she returned to longbourn house, she was loitering in the garden picking some more home grown medicinal herbs for the headache she suspected her father, and almost certainly her mother, would be encumbered with when she heard the tell-tale sounds of an approaching rider down the lane.

Elizabeth didn’t care what people thought of her, but even she’d admit that being crouched down and bent over the pond picking some sprigs of mint wasn’t exactly the picture of a genteel lady, even in her own garden. She laid her latest picking on top of her bounty, hooked the basket underarm and stood up dusting her hands, with little alternative crudely on her petticoat. There was nothing she could do with her rather windswept hair, and flushed complexion but she could at least be standing to greet their visitor.

It was customary for suiters to visit the day after a ball, although not traditionally this early, and her traitorous mind rather hoped to see Mr Henton’s jovial smile appear over the wall.

It wasn’t so nearly as pleasant a surprise. Really, she cursed the skies; she’d have taken Mr Collin’s bumbling appearance in favour of that of Mr Darcy. Did she not deserve even a day without having to be in his presence.

She wasn’t the most experienced in the addressing end of a proposal, though she rather thought a rejected gentleman kept themselves rather scarce from the uppity blue stocking that rejected them. Far be it for her to solve the mysteries of Mr Darcy as she watched him ride towards her.

She gave a rather forced smile of greeting as he tipped his hat towards her, slowing to a stop.

Mr Darcy dismounted and quieted his horse with a fair stroke as he tied the animal firmly to the gate post. He removed his hat and venturing into the garden towards where Elizabeth was standing.

“Mr Darcy,” Elisabeth greeted, giving the customary curtsy, putting her spare hand to use keeping the basket steady on her arm as she did so, “I’m surprised to see you visit us so early.” Too early for polite visitors, Elisabeth continued in her head as he walked even closer towards her.

Mr Darcy blatantly took in her whole wild appearance with increasing disapproval as he noticed the heavy basket in her arms and the mint sprigs on top.

“Early you say, and yet some of us seem to have foraged the whole countryside before noon.” Mr Darcy frowned further looking at her arm holding the basket. Really, Elisabeth though, how can picking a few berries in the morning be so objectionable. “You have torn your sleeve, are you hurt?”

Elisabeth looked down at her arm surprised, but she couldn’t see anything. She tried to pull her sleeve round, but the basket got in the way, before she had a chance to place it on the grass, Mr Darcy moved his hat under his arm and reached for it.

“Hand me the basket.” High handed as always, but she couldn’t really object to the welcome assistance even if she wished too.

With the basket gone she could turn her sleeve easily, and saw the slit in the material, with a few trailing threads. Looking through the gap in the material she could see a scratch, while not deep or particularly bleeding now, it must have been at some point and she was surprised she hadn’t felt it.

“I must have caught it in the brambles, I hadn’t even noticed,” Elizabeth said aloud to herself.

“ _In_ the brambles?” Mr Darcy repeated, incredulous. Elizabeth glanced at him and only just resisted rolling her eyes, pointedly ignoring that comment and just rubbed her arm instead. “Are you hurt?” Mr Darcy asked again as he watched her soothe herself, his arm lifted as if to see and sooth the damage, but then remembered himself. Or perhaps it was simply the obstructions of the basket and hat that stopped him. Either way, Elisabeth eyed his concerned action suspiciously.

“It is just a scratch, its nothing, as I said I hadn’t even noticed until you pointed it out.” Elisabeth was fully aware that her tone made it sound like it was his fault. Mr Darcy actually shook his head and smiled briefly at that.

“You should be more careful and be aware of your surroundings, especially if you _insist_ on venturing into the thorns.” He said shaking his head again, Elisabeth went to protest but he continued before she could, “You seem to have collected a fair bounty this morning,” He lifted the basket up and down feeling its weight, then proceeded to move the mint laid on top to one side, “Ah Raspberries,” he sounded pleased as he went to pick one out, but hesitated looking to Elisabeth apologetically. “May I?”

“Of- Of course,” Elisabeth stuttered taken a bit by surprise.

He gave her a small smile “They are my favourite,” he admitted as he popped one into his mouth. “Especially, now that I appreciate the hardships in collecting them,” he teased, eating another with an almost boyish with mischief. Elisabeth couldn’t help but give a small smile in return, taken aback by this new man in front of her. “Did you have to venture far?” he asked her.

“A fair walk yes,” she answered but he seemed to be waiting for more information, so she found stumbling to continue, “they are a little off near Glepe lane, but the walk is one of my favourites in autumn so I don’t mind.” She gave a small shrug.

“No I am aware of your fondness for walking Elisabeth. I’m afraid while I could stand her all day and singlehandedly eat all of your delicious bounty, your father was supposed to send me some documents,” Mr Darcy looked towards the house, “but on such a fine morning I thought I’d ride over and save on a messenger. Can I take this in for you?” He lifted the basket, gesturing towards the house.

“Mr Darcy I’m afraid I’m the only early riser in my family,” She glanced back at the house with slight embarrassment, “and I haven’t been back inside since I’ve returned. My father may not-”

“Mr Darcy,” interrupted the man himself sternly from the doorway, making both Mr Darcy and Elizabeth startle, “I believe you are here to speak to me, and not my daughter?” Mr Bennet’s words were for the gentleman but his eyes were focused on his child, giving Elizabeth a stare, not angry as such but trying to send her a message she couldn’t quite translate. She stared blankly back at her father, trying to understand.

“An unexpected pleasure Mr Bennet, Miss Elizabeth and I-”

“Lizzy go give that,” Mr Bennet interrupted looking at the basket still in Darcy’s hand “to Mrs Hill and join your sisters for in the morning room.” Elizabeth hesitated, waiting for Mr Darcy to offer the basket, but he held it firm, his attention focused on Mr Bennet instead. “Now Lizzy, take the basket,” her father reaffirmed.

“Yes Father, Mr Darcy the basket, please,” Elisabeth requested, unwilling to snatch it out of his hand, but at this point prepared to do so. After another tense second staring at Mr Bennet, Mr Darcy held the basket out for her to take. “Mr Darcy,” She whispered quickly and curtsied.

“Miss Bennet,” responded Mr Darcy as he bowed slightly, allowing Elisabeth to leave.

Elisabeth took one look back at her father’s frown, and the return of Mr Darcy’s disapproving appearance before she buried her own curiosity and went further into the gardens heading towards the kitchen entrance.

The two gentlemen considered one another in her absence. It was Mr Bennet who broke the stand off.

“You best come inside to my study Mr Darcy.”


	6. A Father's Protection

**Chapter SIX**

**A Father's Protection**

Longbourn was a simple cottage compared to Pemberley but even Mr Darcy could see that the estate held its charms. Instead of fineries and adornments, Longbourn was a rustic manor that revealed its age in a way that Mr Darcy found more and more pleasing as Mr Bennet led him through the property. The sporadic open stone walls and oak rafters would have given a darker tone to the estate if it wasn't for the many windows letting in the light and softening the more rustic features. He could hear the joyful laughter of the younger girls, the sound of someone practicing scales on the pianoforte, and the bustle and of the staff from the distant kitchen. Once, he'd judged this house as inadequate, a further indication of this family's standing, but now the sounds and the sunlit walls painted a pretty picture of the life the Bennet family have in Longbourn.

It had just been himself and Georgiana for so long, and while they were close, living at home in such a large estate had often felt somewhat empty. Neither's personalities being particularly endeared to extended social interactions, they rarely invited visitors to stay for more than a few weeks a year. You could stroll through the halls of Pemberley and not even hear the footsteps of the servants, let alone their voices. Mr Darcy had never really considered it before, always preferring the tranquillity of his estate to the hustle and noise of the city, but he supposed it lead to a certain degree of loneliness, or at least an ingrained familiarity with keeping oneself company.

Longbourn was fundamentally the antithesis. He could hear the laughter so loud it passed through the doors and walls. The servants here smiled and chatted among themselves even as they passed the two gentlemen, unconcerned with social protocol, bringing a late breakfast spread to where the Bennet woman were all congregated at the front of the house. He considered his own servants, while he believed were happy and treated well in all of his estates; there was a leveling of society here that he never would have permitted at his estates. He believed in the fundamental privacy of the family.

When Mr Darcy had proposed to Elizabeth, he'd pictured her as a creature he would pluck from her subpar living standards and surround with the wonder, the perfection, the magnitude that was his Pemberley. Every room so adorned with its beauty and expense that visitors come from far and wide to walk through its halls. Until this day he had never considered that someone could possibly find his estate distasteful in any way.

But seeing Elizabeth so charmingly foraging in her garden, hair displaced and framing her fine eyes, her cheeks flushed with exercise…he wouldn't be surprised if Elizabeth Bennet was the exception to the rule. Her pure enjoyment in the country and the simplicities of life was so evident, from her love for her family to the berries in her basket. He simply knew she would love the nature of Derbyshire, she wouldn't be daunted by its hills and peaks even as a sharp contrast to the plains of Hertfordshire. But now walking through her childhood home, sounds abound of life and family, he wondered if she would have found Pemberley … cold? Distasteful even? In comparison to the familial warmth that Longbourn provides.

It was immaterial now. Even by his side, Elizabeth would most likely never step a foot in the halls of Pemberley in her new station. The Newiton house would suit her. He'd only purchased due to the proximity to his estate, it was a little too modest for him but now he was pleased with the small property he had purchased for this arrangement. The house had a country tone similar to that of Longbourn and he was confident that she would find the transition less jarring because of it. And, if his memory serves, there were winter berries on the approaching lane.

Mr Bennet's study was a treasure trove to books. Books that had made their home on, in and under every surface. Space-wise, this room couldn't begin to compare to the libraries at any of his estates, but Mr Darcy would place a fair wager that he would find many a book in this one little room that he would not find in his extensive collection. His eyes caught titles of well-loved aged books that he'd never heard of, and a pile of freshly printed books still poised on their open brown wrapping stood on a side table. It made him consider Elizabeth's own reading habits, her preference for books rather than join in the games in the Netherfield drawing room so long ago. Was she as avid a reader as her father? Would she be satisfied with the small book room that the Newiton house held? What type of books did she like to read? Would she prefer novels, or favour the more-

"Mr Darcy," Mr Bennet stood behind the room's sole desk, interrupting Mr Darcy's train of thought, "are you clear to precisely what these deeds give you ownership of?" Mr Bennet held up a leather bounded book, the deeds to the Longbourn property. Among them, Mr Darcy assumed, was the irrefutable record of the birth of Mr Bennet's grandfather, the proverbial nail in the coffin for Longbourn. The sort after record of their relative's illegitimate age on renewing the entail was the Holy Grail that the Bennet family could have only dreamed of a year ago, was now the critical element of their fundamental ruin.

"I believe my lawyer has been very clear on the subject Mr Bennet, I'm sure I am well informed." Mr Darcy spoke confidently but paused when a response wasn't forthcoming. He felt some concern creep in, enough to hedge his response more thoroughly, "That said, I shall send the complete deeds and documents to my lawyer for a final confirmation if you wish."

"You see Mr Darcy I do believe you may understand the logistics," Mr Bennet spoke firmly, "that the lands surrounding this estate are yours. That the fields, the stables, and many cottages in the Longbourn grounds, now belong to you." Mr Bennet paused, then gestured around himself, "that this old house, this house that has been in my family for 14 generations likewise now belongs to you," he paused again, looking down and then laughed bitterly to himself, "And, even this, this very desk belongs to you," he placed the deeds on top of the cluttered desk giving it some empty consideration. Mr Bennet took a deep controlled breath as he placed both hands firmly on either side of the book that by rights belonged to the gentleman that stood in front of him. He looked up, eyes meeting the other gentleman, anger and disgust dripping in his tone and countenance as he took the effort to clarify, "What does not belong to you Mr Darcy," Mr Bennet spat out in a low tone, "is Elizabeth."

"Sir-,"Mr Darcy started, taken aback by the depth of fury in Mr Bennet's tone. "Sir your daughter-"

"I didn't see it before," keeping his voice hushed, Mr Bennet could almost be speaking to himself if it wasn't for his complete focus on the other gentleman, "I'll cater my ignorance to not knowing the full story of whatever fascination my second child has brought out in you," he looked Mr Darcy up and down as if searching visually for any remanence of the interaction he'd witnessed in his garden, "but I see it now, and by god, you will not have her."

Keeping his voice low Mr Darcy matched his host's volume, respectfully taking the assumption that privacy was not always guaranteed in this house. "Mr Bennet-" He tried but failed to reason.

"Do you think… even entertain the _possibility_ that I would allow, that I would – she is my child! Genteel raised!" Mr Bennet cut into the severe gentleman standing in front of him, willing Mr Darcy to be insulted, to be outraged at the mere suggestion of an immoral arrangement. To say something, _anything_ that would give some credence to the conclusion his mind had concocted.

But Mr Darcy didn't respond immediately as he was doing his best to try and form his petition on the spot, to find a way to approach this situation that would appeal to the other gentleman, having not expected this particular confrontation so soon. The hesitation was enough.

"Damn you." Mr Bennet whispered, and then repeated more fiercely, _"Damn you_."

"Your situation-" started Mr Darcy.

"My situation," Mr Bennet exclaimed, "has no relevance on your _relations_ with _my daughter_."

"Mr Bennet," Mr Darcy managed to settle himself, speaking with feeling he felt would settle the elder gentleman, "I have a great admiration for your daughter, I have thought of her fondly for some time now. Your situation being what it is, I think she will consider an arrangement-"

"There will be no _arrangement,"_ he spat out the word, "Not of _any kind_ Mr Darcy. Is this your plan, to prey on a young woman while her world being turned upside down? To leverage her against her circumstances?" Mr Bennet shook his head in disgust. "Even if you were proposing an honourable offer, I wouldn't force or prevail her to accept, especially to someone who would be the last man in the world who could possibly make her happy. _This_ suggestion disgusts me."

Mr Darcy flinched back at the mirror assessment of Elizabeth's own refusal. He found this infuriating. Was every member of the Bennet family so fundamentally unaware of their status and situation? That they continually set themselves against him, a Darcy no less, with more money, estates and standing than ...well most Earls of his acquaintance.

"Sir, I am offering a lifeline. Your family is in tatters," Mr Darcy cut back, fury filling his words at the man's continual repudiation, "the only reason that you and your family are even standing in Longbourn at this very minute is because I permit it and that my generous delay has shielded you from the fallout. Without-"

"-How dare you, you have no-"

"WITHOUT this arrangement your family are ruined. You yourself will most likely be dragged off to debtor's prison. Your wife, your daughters will be reduced at best to the wives of some low farmers or poor tradesmen, at worse a life of hard grueling labour," finally he relished in the despair in the elder man's eyes, he knew his words had hit home. Mr Darcy breathed deep trying to control his anger; it would assist him greatly if Mr Bennet could persuade Elizabeth to accept his arrangement.

"Mr Bennet I do not mean to cause such offense, but I believe you are being short-sighted. What will become of your family without an arrangement? How will Elizabeth feel then, you think she will be able to watch you being locked up in that," Mr Darcy struggled to even describe the conditions in so foul a place, "that distasteful setting. Is the life of some tradesman the best she has to hope for, the worst? To work as some shop hand, some maid? Is that what you want for her, for any of your children?"

Mr Bennet could no longer even look at the man in front of him. Mr Darcy soothed his tone even more, "As I have said I have great respect for your daughter, and I only wish to provide her a good life, and I'm willing to extend that generosity to the rest of your household."

"The cost is too high," insisted Mr Bennet, "You think I will be able to breathe easy as my child has to sell herself to a man she, even kindly put, strongly dislikes?" Mr Bennet closed his eyes in pain, unaware of the gentleman in front of him in similar discomfort. Mr Bennet shook his head, "God I would rather her become a scullery maid than be so heavily under the power of any man, especially as she would be paying for my failings… If I wanted my child to be miserable I'd have made her marry Collins." At least both Gentlemen had the decency to flinch at that outcome.

"And you say you admire her," continued Mr Bennet "that you are fond of her, and yet you must be aware of Elizabeth's own feelings?" he implored, gesturing his hands open in disbelief, "She has made little attempts to hide her distaste of your manners after you insulted her at the Merryton ball, and I don't believe your _particular personality_ has changed her mind since then. What reason, except nefarious, could a man have with a woman for a mistress he full well knows dislikes him? Except to torment her." Mr Bennet lowered his hands into fists, leaning on the desk, unaware that he had just revealed a rather crucial puzzle piece in Mr Darcy's interaction with Elizabeth.

"Sir," Mr Darcy paused phrasing his response, "I believe, in time, her feelings will change and she will not find it such a… disagreeable arrangement. While I have admired her, I now believe some misplaced words have tainted your daughter's opinion of me. I hope to change that." He was certainly not happy to only find this out now, he barely even remembered what he said. Some vague recognition of trying to get Bingley to stop pestering him to dance, and dismissing dancing with Elizabeth to do it. He'd rather regretted his quick tongue once she'd caught his eye. God what had he said, something about being tolerable? Not tempting him? Well, that couldn't be further from the truth.

He'd found himself playing the fool for this woman, so tempting that she was. He'd offered her everything a man in his standing could offer a woman, a life of luxury and prestige so above her own standing. Even now, after she had taken his attentions and thrown them back at his feet he found himself offering her the luxuries of a life beyond what she should have expected, even in a less respectable position. He wouldn't have engineered all of this if the blasted woman hadn't tempted him. Yet even Mr Darcy also knew that even an intelligent woman like Elizabeth wouldn't have taken favourably to her looks being besmirched, and to do so in public; it would certainly be something he would have to clear up when they had reached an equilibrium.

"And you believe coercing her to become your, your _mistress,_ " Mr Bennet stumbled over the title, "will endear you to her? You know nothing of my daughter."

Again Mr Bennet certainly was correct, she would not be pleased. He was rather looking forward to seeing Elizabeth's fiery temper again. Witnessing it in the mix of being rejected, he hadn't quite appreciated the particular charm that it added to her attraction at the time. Being rather assured of the outcome of this arrangement, he would simply have to wade the oncoming tide, soothe and entice her to accept.

He did hope she wouldn't be stubborn for too long, he had rather enjoyed his interaction with her in the garden. He now envisioned riding up to Newiton house being greeted with a smiling berry ladened Elizabeth, only this time it was himself ordering her into the house for much more pleasanter relations. It was all a rather charming picture to him. Though, granted, not one he would be persuading her father with.

Deciding not to touch on that aspect of his proposed arrangement "While I understand your focus on the personal aspect, it remains that this is simply a business transaction. Elizabeth is something I want, and I believe, securing her family's happiness and future is something she will find a worthy exchange for her company. The rest will come in time. It will not be as you depict, the life I will be able to provide for her will be more than satisfactory, she'll have her own house, own servants." Mr Bennet was already shaking his head, a look of disgust on his face. Changing tactics Mr Darcy continues "And for your family, it will be…" he struggled to convey the scope of the benefits, he sighed frustrated at his own delay "With her agreement you and the rest of your family would be able to stay here, carry on living the life you are accustomed. Your daughters will be able to go on, get married-"

"Mr Darcy, my answer is no," finalised Mr Bennet. "I will not allow Elizabeth to be used like this."

Darcy wanted to shake the man. Blast it all he should of kicked them all out to the streets the moment he had the confirmation and then they would have experienced the hardships of true financial ruin, that at least would persist past this wall of absolute stupidity and denial, "What about your other daughters, do they mean so little to you? What about their happiness, their futures, their marriage prospects? Can you really put Elizabeth's happiness over the rest?"

"You know nothing of this family either if you think they would not want their sister to do this." Mr Bennet shook his head. Mr Darcy mirrored the action but his in complete disbelief.

"When she has been fully informed of the change in circumstances Elizabeth will agree to an arrangement, I am sure of it." Mr Darcy spoke firmly, "You say I do not know your daughter, well I know her well enough. I will speak directly with her."

Mr Bennet stood up in anger and panic, "No, I forbid you to speak to her about this. I forbid you to speak to her about anything."

"You must allow her the choice!" Mr Darcy exclaimed.

"Choice! She is barely one and twenty yet sir, she doesn't get a choice. As her father, no matter the mistakes I have made, I will not, I cannot allow her to sign her life away. No, I think enough has been said don't you, you can take your documents and leave Mr Darcy. You can trust that I will speak to my family today about our change in circumstances and that will be all. Elizabeth is not to be spoken to, not by you." Mr Bennet held out the deeds. Mr Darcy made no move to take them.

"Sir I _will_ make this offer to Elizabeth, if you cannot see reason I expect your daughter will. That being said, she has been known not to act in her family's interest before. If I somehow fail to convince her, or I am not allowed the opportunity to converse with her…" Mr Darcy shook his head in frustration, eyes narrowing in spite, "Well then maybe after a few months of experiencing real hardship, I will visit your daughter again to see if her time earning herself calluses and scrubbing floors has wavered that _inherent. Bennet. Pride,"_ he rolled each word off his tongue with the mocking tone the foolish man deserved.

"Take your ill-gained deeds" he shoved the papers away from him "and get out of my house."

Reminding Mr Bennet that it was in fact his house seemed a shade too uncivilised even after their exchange, so Mr Darcy simply took the papers, bowed, and closed the study door as he left.

Longbourn was silent as he strode through the halls and left the property at a brisk pace, his anger at Mr Bennet's delusions and denial driving through him pushing every step further into the ground. The laughter, the piano that had painted such a charming picture as he had entered the property was all gone, it was as if his very presence had torn the life and warmth from Longbourn's walls and right now he felt glad of it. A closed-door probably went towards some privacy, but he expected that the eventual raised voices would have carried throughout the house. How clearly and thoroughly the words had traveled he could not say, and, frankly he couldn't care a wit. It would serve his purpose if the household, especially Elizabeth, had heard how severely changed her family circumstances were.

Having just had that thought, he let out an audible groan on reaching to untie his horse. No, having your elicit arrangement shouted throughout the house was not actually his preferred method of informing Elizabeth. Stroking his stead while looking back to the where he had stood with Elizabeth, thinking of their fond interaction before her father had interrupted them. He wanted Elizabeth to accept this arrangement, to settle into her new position with him. Part of him wanted to relish in her reaction, to enjoy her eyes alight with fury, so he in turn could stand firm against her, soothe her into acceptance. It was a balance he had envisioned controlling and he now….well now that might have been taken out of his hands.

He growled as he gathered up his reins to mount, he would have to find a way to present his own appeal to her, to counteract her own father's views, the views that every genteel woman believed in. It should be easy to persuade Elizabeth that wanting her, desiring her as a mistress, was the best she and her family could hope for, and she should be grateful for the offer.

Although he wasn't exactly preparing for gratitude. He was fully expecting to have to use her family's prospects to get her to concede, if her rejection hadn't been clear he now had it confirmed from her father that she held little fondness for him. But what does her fondness have to do with becoming a mistress, woman choose this line of security all the time. It was only logical in her position and he wasn't a stranger, despite her sharp tongue she knew he had already expressed admiration, it wasn't some unknown she was giving seeking protection with. His familiarity should be reassuring. She may not welcome him at first, but she would come to learn that there would be no-one even at the heights of London that would provide for her as he would.

But without her father's approval, he would have to find another way to speak to her. At least, if he could take Bennet at his word, his family would be informed of their situation. From there it was only a matter of time until he had Elizabeth to himself.


	7. Torn to Pieces

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all the comments, Kudos and support, they keep me going. Here is the next chapter, hope you enjoy !

**Torn to Pieces**

  


Mrs Bennet was holding court at the breakfast table trying to enthral the inhabitants with gossip from the previous evening. The two youngest siblings who had been absent from the ball listened somewhat enthusiastically artfully balanced with a youthful air of sulking. Elizabeth managed to enter the room and take her seat at the table without drawing too much attention, Mrs Bennet being kept occupied by her sisters; she gained a quick glance from the matron as if sensing the movement but nothing further. The sound of harsh piano scales vibrated through the room made Elizabeth wince though the rest of the attendants didn't react. It was unlikely that they found the disjointed rise in key pleasant, so more than likely it had been going on for a while and the others had managed to tune it out. The culprit was presumably Mary, with her being the only other sister absent from the table.

Elizabeth let out a small breath, fixing a loose hair away from her eyes and tucking her muddied skirts under the table away from her mother's eyes. Normally after such an excursion, she would head to her room for a brief refresh, but her father's unusually stern instructions had led her here directly. Even if it was spoken simply to get her inside not truly intended on confining her to the morning room but wanting her to vacate Mr Darcy's presence, she preferred to follow her father's direction in this instance. Listening to her mother's latest tirade she reassured herself that at least with her mother present, there was less risk of being faced with Mr Darcy again.

Her stubborn hair fell loose again, untwisted from its original simple design. Jane across the table covered a smile, having noticed her sister's rather unladylike appearance on entering; she looked pointedly at Elizabeth's torn sleeve with a mixed look of concern and amusement. Elisabeth just shrugged her shoulder in explanation and attempted to tuck the tear in her sleeve away somewhat unsuccessfully. Jane just shook her head pushing a plate of buttered scones closer to Elizabeth so they were in her reach then returned to listen obligatory to their mother. Elizabeth took one of the offerings, but only broke off a small bite and popped it in her mouth.

She should have worked up a decent appetite this morning with all her wild venturing, but her morning interactions had unsettled her. Both Gentlemen acting so unconventional to their characters as she knew them. Mr Darcy she believed was where the answer lay to her father's change in temper. She was running through their conversation during the ball and the interaction outside through her mind searching for any indications with little resolve. Even the small piece of the baked treat sat dry in her mouth, so she abandoned her efforts and placed the rest on her side plate.

"Two dances with Mr Henton, two! Mind you she talked far too much as I could see. I've said it before," Mrs Bennet stressed to the younger girls, but her head angled towards Elizabeth, blatantly pretending to be ignorant of her joining the table, "a gentleman doesn't like his ear talked off during a dance, especially not any clever sort of talk." Elizabeth just broke the remained of her scone into crumbs pointlessly on her plate, quite used to this sort of talk from her mother. A freshly poured cup of tea was placed in front of her and she took a drink from gratefully, a smiling Annie who followed it up by placing a bowl of familiar freshly washed raspberries.

"Oh but when Jane danced with Mr Henton," Mrs Bennet sighed heavenly, telling the younger girls with conspiring whisper, "she smiled so beautifully at him, now that girls is the way to a man's heart."

"Mama, please," Jane sent her younger sister a look of mortified apology, but Elizabeth just smothered a laugh and rolling her eyes comically. She took a handful of berries for her own plate hoping the soft fruit would be more palatable for her, before pushing the bowl over to sister. Jane took the peace offering with affection, knowing her sister would have fetched her favourite treat this very morning and therefore accounting for her appearance.

"Ma I would have danced with Mr Henton too or any of the gentlemen really, if father had allowed us to go," Lydia complained, Kitty was equally quick to join, making her own disgruntled feelings known.

"Oh I know dears," Mrs Bennet cooed sympathetically, picking up a table linen from her setting and refolding it pointlessly, "now I'm sure your father will allow you to attend balls again as soon. Now if either Jane or Lizzy would finally decide to get married, well then that would change things. You know girls I was married at seventeen, I certainly didn't leave things to chance," she reminded them proudly, which in turn made the elder daughters wince.

Elizabeth was fully aware of how her parents got married, and it certainly wasn't the romantic tale her mother had spun on occasion. Mrs Hill had simply mentioned somewhat fondly that Jane was a very healthy babe for being born so early and her mother, with very little skill in subtlety or foresight, had screeched the woman out of the room to the embarrassment of all who witnessed. A necessary marriage. Elizabeth had never spoken to her father about it, but she at least believed, unlike their mother, it wasn't something her father was proud of. At least knew he'd erred and then did the honourable thing, paying for it dearly if his attachment to his book room was something to go by.

A new set of scales was just beginning, and a plethora of incorrect keys were enough. "Oh Kitty go fetch your sister," Mrs Bennet snapped waving her table linen in the air dismissively,"tell her the food is here and I've had enough scales for one morning. That girl has no consideration, really, as if we all want to be listening to all that nonsense just after a ball." Kitty gave a deep routed sigh of jovial reluctance but stood up to do as her mother's bidding, it wasn't like any of the inhabitants were enjoying the musical attempts. On leaving the room Kitty paused by the window and turned back sharply.

"Mama there is a horse tied up outside," cried out Kitty excitedly, "but nobody has been announced?"

  


Mrs Bennet defied her age with a youthful spring from her breakfast chair moving over to the window wafting Kitty out of the way to get a better look.

"Oh look at that fine horse," Mrs Bennet gushed, "maybe it's Mr Henton come early! Although Kitty is right nobody has been announced-"

"-Mama actually," Elizabeth tried and failed to her mother was already continuing.

"Well, he can't have gotten lost between the garden and the house one wouldn't think. Where is Mrs Hill she must know... oh maybe he is speaking to Mr Bennet!" Mrs Bennet exclaimed excitedly turning to Elizabeth, "Oh Lizzy I just knew he would, you have your faults, your refusal of Mr Collins I have barely forgiven you for, I scared believe a man would take you but you are still my daughter, after all, you must have done something right," she turned to give her daughter a pleased look, causing Elizabeth who was in the middle of taking her tea to swallow her drink abruptly.

"Mama!" Elisabeth uncharacteristically stuttered, "We are barely even acquainted with the gentleman, to think he would…Mama really! I barely even know the man. None of us do," she looked over at Jane briefly, "Anyway-"

"Oh what does that matter, really child-" Mrs Bennet muttered impatiently looking back at the equine as if that would answer all her prayers.

"Mr Darcy," Elisabeth stood from her chair and cut in quickly to the surprise of the room. She took a breath before explaining, "it is Mr Darcy who is visiting, I spoke to him outside on my way back in," she told them, now gaining their full attention. She bit her lip and gave her own glance towards the window where his horse could be seen nibbling the grass edge, "he has come to speak of some business with father."

"Business, with Mr Darcy? What busin-" Mrs Bennet span around cutting herself off as she fully took in Elizabeth's full appearance. She reacted almost comically, her face filling with a warm hue, "Elizabeth Bennet!" she scolded, "Are you telling me you spoke to Mr Darcy," she took a further account of the tangled curls, right down to the mud spattered hem, "looking like that!"

Having expected this reaction from her mother ever since she entered the morning room, surprisingly the shrill tone still hit her with a wince. Elizabeth knew full well that she didn't look her best so she took the scolding with what she hoped appeared sincere contrition. Alas as if seeing victory her mother continued, "Frightful child, what must he think of this family, allowing my daughters to swan around the fields like some sort of, of," she stuttered as struggled to think of something insulting enough to describe her daughters appearance "sheep herder." Now Elizabeth nearly allowed a laugh to slip through her tight lips, unassisted by her sisters who also smothered signs of amusement.

"What were you thinking, I have half a mind-"Mrs Bennet's eyes narrowed as if smelled the mere line of blood from Elizabeth's scratch "is your sleeve torn?" she questioned with a horrified gasp "Elizabeth what were you thinking! My daughter dressed in rags, speaking to a gentleman" she shook her head with disbelief, "oh what must Mr Darcy of thought of you, speaking to him in this state."

He wasn't very impressed, Elizabeth thought with some amusement, remembering the way he had looked her up and down in that haughty way of his. He did however seem to find it a worthy exchange for the berries, but she felt that sharing this little addition would do little to soothe her mother.

"Mama, I really don't car-"

"What if it was Mr Henton?" Elizabeth did admittedly feel a slight twinge at that thought, finding out that she did actually care what Mr Henton's opinion of her was. She instantly scolded herself for that initial reaction, any man who objected so strongly to a slight dishevelled appearance, including a splash or two of mud, really wasn't worth his salt. And really any man of interest to her should be well aware of her love of the outdoors. But, Elizabeth would concede, maybe not be greeted so visually with that aspect of her personality.

Something must of shown on her face as Mrs Bennet took her reaction as compliance, "Get upstairs and get changed right away Lizzy," she turned back to the window fearfully as if expecting the gentleman to appear beyond, before spinning back to her daughter still stood there, not feeling the urgency as her mother was, "Now Lizzy!" she waved her daughter to the door. Elizabeth felt like she really didn't have a choice and didn't fancy facing the argument were she to request to stay, surrendered to her mother's will and heading out of the room.

"We need to hide as much of that girls wild nature as possible from that man," Mrs Bennet muttered as she stared out of the window. Another stilted scales attempt rang through the room, making more than just Mrs Bennet wince, "Kitty will you go pry Mary off that piano!"

"Daughters, I had to have daughters," Mrs Bennet cried to all that would hear her.

Elizabeth strongly intended to follow her mother's instructions, planning to dart directly through the corridors up to the safety of her room, all the while keeping a wary eye out to avoid her father and his very unwelcomed guest. Mud and torn apparel aside, she had little desire to come face to face with Mr Darcy again, no matter how unusually cordial and out of character their interaction outside had seemed. Strong was her conviction, she didn't even glance at her father's study door as she past it, so intent on reaching the safety of the stairwell.

"Sir, I am offering a lifeline. Your family is in tatters." Her heart froze, foot posed above the first step. Mr Darcy's voice murmured through the wood, barely audible above the sounds of her own breath. Her hand hovered over the curve of the dark wood bannister, unable to grasp it. She couldn't bring herself to move. What was he saying she couldn't seem to-

"because I permit it" Mr Darcy brutal words attacked through the door, "and that my generous delay has shielded you from the fallout. Without"

  


"How dare you," her father voice lashed out, "you have no-"

"WITHOUT this arrangement your family are ruined."

She sank to the steps, hand trailing down a bannister spine and grasping the wood at the bottom. She was aching for some mistake, that Mr Darcy was simply misunderstanding, or simply overestimating the damage, whatever damage that may be. Something had happened, that much was clear. Had one of her younger sisters been too silly just one time too many? Had some foul gossip hit the London society pages, unleashing the soft guillotine of poisoned words culling her family's reputation?

And what was Mr Darcy's involvement; he couldn't have come all this way to Hertfordshire simply to warn her father of some unknown scandal under the guise of business, there was no connection that would support such an action. Her father had never mentioned any significant connection with the man and they had certainly shown no knowledge of each other on Mr Darcy's first visit to the area. Her mind was running a thousand possibilities.

Elizabeth needed to know more but she couldn't hear past her family, and she daren't leave the safety of the stairwell, as much as she wanted to throw propriety up in the air and press her ear against the door. Instead, she was stuck listening to the overbearing sounds of Longbourn. Kitty's lecturing tones informing her older sister of her rather lackful talent at the instrument and then, "-debtor's prison" Mary refusing to be dragged from the piano, "your daughters will be reduced-" Lydia calling out to Jane to borrow her ribbons that failed to complement her fair hair, "-gruelling labour" her mother crying out to Anne to bring a fresh pot of tea, that hers was cold and how unreasonable it was to be serving cold tea.

Her foolish family filling the halls with mindless sniping. She was halfway off the step, giving in to the temptation to get closer, to hear clearer when she heard more than she wanted. "What will become of your family without an arrangement? How will Elizabeth feel-"

Elizabeth. Her name, her Christian name. Some foul creature curled tightly in her stomach. She couldn't think straight. What if she had done something, something she hadn't even realised, to ruin her family. Here she was blaming her younger sisters when it was her that must have fallen. What was Mr Darcy's involvement, had he heard about it, had he witnessed it? Something he had-

"Mary! Kitty! Where have those girls gotten to, we need to have breakfast over before any more significant visitors arrive, hurry Jane," her mother's voice and footfall gained volume as she made her way towards the hall.

Elizabeth forced herself to rise and scarper up the stairs. Being found by her mother loitering on the steps eavesdropping would only add to her mother's growing list of unmarriageable attributes that her daughter seemed to possess. She strongly doubted her Mother knew the meaning of subtlety, and the mere thought of Mr Darcy witnessing her eavesdropping in his conversation would just be the final stitch in her mortification. Finally in the safety of her bedroom, she leant back on the closed door and wrapped her arms around herself. Her family was ruined and with Mr Darcy involved it must be related to her.

She felt foolish haven even considering anything else. Her father, her mother, even her foolish younger sisters, they had no connection to Mr Darcy. She could think of no reason he would involve himself in regards to them. Elizabeth however, unknown to those she held dear, had crossed paths with the gentleman on more than one unfavourable occasion. With shaking hands she started to take the pins out of her hair, needing some action, some task to calm down.

She had heard of rejected men ruining a woman's reputation in retaliation to a rejected suite, but in practice, Mr Darcy? It was months ago, a year even she reminded herself digging out another pin. She just couldn't align that level of vicious action to him, even though she had accused the man of being ungentlemanly in the past she hadn't meant the insult in the full extent of the address. And yet if his surprise proposal had shown her anything it was of how little knowledge of his character she really had. To propose to a woman, a woman he barely knew, being so conceited to proceed without even confirming that she returned his affection. Not exactly the actions of a level minded man. Frustrated with her own trail of thoughts she went over to the dressing table, placing the pins on the surface and picking up her hair brush, attempting soothing glides through her newly released curls.

Her name, Mr Darcy had said her name as if he had some right to it, some propensity to address her with such familiarity. And it wasn't the first time he'd spoken it. Their dance, she thought with unease. His high handed ways, his chiding tongue… she had put it down to his unlikeable personality, maybe a simple determination to prove he no longer held favourable opinions of her person but… was it more than that? She hadn't even really processed their dance, the words he had spoken to her, the way he had danced with her.

It had all made her feel so uneasy. The way he had manoeuvred his way into gaining a dance. How he had toyed and teased her, keeping her on her guard throughout. His declaration that they were old friends when it was clear to both parties that they were anything but, more like adversaries crossing paths on a battlefield. Going even further, laying out her lack of niceties like a justification for for… she slammed the brush on the table. Elizabeth couldn't even grasp his intent other than to simply unsettle her. It had been no battlefield, no, she had felt so far from some, she may have defied him with a strong countenance, but in truth she had felt more like a pitiable insect flitting in and out of an ever entrapping web as he waited for her to entangle herself in his trap. Gripping the dressing table edge, she tried to calm her breathing.

She gripped it the way his hands had gripped her, guiding her through the steps, catching her and keeping her from fleeing when all she wanted to do was leave him humiliated on that dance floor. Elizabeth pushed the table away, needing to move, needing to think, trying to remember what Mr Darcy had said. Her father's business. Something about talking with her, talking with her after speaking with her father about business. She had been concentrating so much on holding her own, not allowing her confusion and how fundamentally uncomfortable she was to show, trying so firmly not to show any weakness. Was there a victory in his words that she hadn't sensed? A cruel relish in her unknown demise? She felt her breath catch more severely.

Her family was ruined. She was involved. She wanted to be sick.

Her eyes starting stinging as the panic starting to overwhelm her as she removed her outer skirt and rid herself of her torn dress. She hadn't even managed to hear much of anything, and what she had she had heard she might have mistaken. Why was she thinking so much, this panic wasn't like her, she needed to speak to her father, she needed to know that it wasn't true, that it wasn't her, she needed… she needed to breathe.

Her fingers started loosening the laces of her stays, pulling the corset apart until she could finally feel the air in her lungs. She held the back of her hand over her mouth to stem the sounds of her gasps, it wouldn't do any good to be found in this state. Reduced to her loose undergarments she sat on her bed edge until she managed to slow her breathing down. She didn't even know anything substantial, It wouldn't be the first time Mr Darcy had made a severe misjudgement, this concern was all so premature.

She looked down towards the dress pooled on the floor and reached to pick it up, running a finger over the tear in the arm mentally adding it to her mending list. The dress was a favourite of hers; she wouldn't see it sent to the cloth pile over such a small amount of damage and a few dots of blood. Mr Darcy had seemed concerned over such a small thing as the snatch of a bramble on her skin. He had even reached out to her, as if the check the damage. She found the corresponding line of red on her arm and a slight smear of dried blood. A scratch, barely even a wound, such a small insignificant thing to be concerned about. She ran her thumb over the tear again and again finding the concentration soothing.

She couldn't do this all day, she dropped the dress on the bedclothes and to pick out something that her mother wouldn't refer to as rags. Hanging a fresh blush pink dress on the door, she started tightening her stays. Nothing would be solved by staying up here, she would simply have to speak to her father and find out what has occurred. If questioned about her involvement with Mr Darcy well, Elizabeth pulled the strings on her chest a tad too tight and had to stop to loosen the tie again, well she'd simply have to tell her father the truth. Not a topic she looked forward to discussing with her father, especially if her mother was present. Receiving such a substantial proposal and rejecting it might actually cause some actual fits of nerves to appear. She pulled the dress over her head unable to stop a small smile to herself at the thought of her mother realising that she had rejected Mr 10,000 a year Darcy.

With the afternoon approaching and with it the respectable visiting hours after a ball, her mother wouldn't allow her to remain up here forever. Elizabeth was surprised her mother hadn't sent Anne or one of her sisters up to do her hair, not that she was complaining, but it did take a bit of effort to produce a respectable hairstyle on her own. She repined into a simple but pretty style, but one she was quite fond of. There was a level of anticipation of Mr Henton visiting which she didn't know if it was brought on by her mother's expectations, or the possible news of her family ruin. She did know it was no longer the gentle flutter she had felt before the ball. Mr Henton was still an unknown quandary; abet a very pleasant one that she would like to further become acquainted with. However, there was no getting away from the fact that a successful marriage would save her family and herself if ruined.

Elizabeth was just placing back a final curl when she heard the front door to Longbourn open and close beneath her room. Leaving her hair for a moment she stood, drawn towards her bedroom window. Keeping herself hidden behind the curtain, she looked out to see Mr Darcy striding across the front garden. He seemed somewhat distressed as he reached his horse, though the calming stroke he gave the mammal revealed at least a gentle mentality when it came to his stead. Could a man who soothed a horse be cruel enough to ruin a family? Is that what he had come here to do?

If she had been more materialistic she would have been his wife by now. Would she have likewise been staring out a window, a window much more grand than this, feeling equally uncertain of her future happiness? She may dislike the man, but at least she would have known her family would be secure, maybe that would have made it worth it. No, she was right to refuse him whatever happened now. Marriage is the most precarious decision a woman makes, a husband becomes her law. To make that decision for security, to a man she disliked wasn't a decision she could have lived with.

Marriage was a lifetime, a lifetime with a man she disliked under his control. She knew he had meant what he had spoken in the ballroom, that the offer of Marriage would not be repeated. He had spoken to her father of an arrangement. A sour bile filled her mouth almost instantly, but she pushed that thought away for now. She would speak to her father. She would speak to her father and it would all be resolved.

Elizabeth watched Mr Darcy mount his stead and leave down the lane. She watched him until she could see neither horse nor rider no longer. With every essence of her being, she hopelessly wished she would never see Mr Darcy again.

  


  



	8. A Gentleman Calls

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big shout out to my pestering reviewers, it really does lay on the guilt and gets my backside back to my laptop. I have actually written further than this chapter, but I haven’t finished the next scene which I was hoping to post with this. BUT it’s been months and you amazing people all deserve something now.   
> Few story notes: Please note I’m writing this of the bat. I get a few questions on the legalities of losing longbourn, Mr Bennet’s debt etc. I do have it worked out (she says confidently), with research into entails and legal documents. I’m considering an epistolary chapter. However…. I don’t want to get bogged down with all that, I (like you lot probably) want to get to Lizzy and Darcy. Poke holes and ask questions, I don’t mind that, but please remember this is essentially a draft, I have not written a full novel all shiny and polished, I will most definitely have to go back and change things as I go. Always point stuff out if you notice something odd, very handy when readers spot inconsistencies, but bare with me if it’s not perfect :D   
> On to the chapter!

A Gentleman Calls

“I have found myself feeling exceptionally welcomed here in Hertfordshire,” Mr Henton spoke gently while tucking Elizabeth’s hand under his arm. The corner of his mouth slid upwards as he looked over at the group of the other Bennet sisters, Kitty laughing gaily with Lydia as she pointed to something in the pond, Mary in typical fashion was complaining to Jane about the chill in the air and being taken away from her pianoforte. “I think I’ve spoken to more families in the surrounding area than I have in the past five years at my brother's estate,” he stated almost to himself, though he began grinning cheekily when he looked back at Elizabeth, “and I was under the misconception I was sociable over there.”

Elizabeth was surprised to hear herself laugh. She had been dreading having to put on a performance, expecting to simply bide her time, present a pretence of normality until she could make her excuses to speak to her father. Now, instead of counting down the seconds, she found herself slowing down her strides as they strolled around the Longbourn estate. However limited it may be in the long term, she found herself feeling significantly grateful for Mr Henton’s current presence, his familiar light humour successfully casting over her oncoming clouds.

“You sound surprised,” Elizabeth smiled gently, his jovial nature helping her re-find her somewhat stolen spirit, “were you expecting the people Hertfordshire to dislike you? Is there something especially dislikeable that we should know about you Mr Henton?” she asked in a mock stern tone, fully undertaking the spirit to enjoy their time together. He in turn took on the expected affronted expression then broke the act with a wry smile.

“No no, not at all, it’s not that I promise. I have no dislikeable traits at all, something my mother will attest to, especially to pretty young ladies of my acquaintance,” he gave her a teasing smile receiving a satisfying blush in return, “No it’s just, my family estate is in Lincolnshire and well,” he stopped, looking a bit abashed.

“Well?” echoed Elizabeth trying to encourage him.

“I’ll admit my northern tendency was that the closer to London you are…the less friendly people are,” Mr Henton admitted guiltily looking away from her to the treeline. Elizabeth let out a responding chuckle, giving the gentleman an amused look as he explained, “Yes yes I know, somewhat narrow-minded of me. But you see, my experience in London, and with Londoners themselves,” he clarified with a side glance, “has simply, shall we say, reaffirmed this. I suppose with the people here being so close to town, I had expected them to be rather less than welcoming.”

Elizabeth raised a brow, “We are close to town sir, but we are not _town,”_ giving Mr Henton a heavy affronted look, “and I think the Hertfordshire community are quite proud of that,” she finished, keeping her tone steady until she, likewise, broke her act to give the gentleman a teasing smile.

“And rightly so Miss Elizabeth, rightly so,” he laughed softly at her teasing, patting her arm, while in truth being somewhat relieved not to have caused offence.

“Do you spend much time in London sir?” she inquired, leading him to the tree edge. The autumn had been kind to the estate and the garden that had enjoyed such rich greens but a few months ago was now gifted an equally pleasant dusting of crisp warmth. Herefordshire for all its proximity to London, was beautiful.

“Yes,” Mr Henton nodded, admiring the crunching leaves underfoot, “a fair portion of the year, unfortunately. I have a limited fondness of London, but my family have always been very politically involved and so even as children, my brothers and I were dragged to London for the season most years. For young lads, the fine dining and endless society held very little appeal, especially when there were fields, forests, and trouble to be found at home. And now as a gentleman, society holds even less and less appeal,” he let on with a boyish grin. “My eldest brother, however, has come to relish the politics and has betrayed me with his insistence on now thoroughly enjoying London and all of its vapid treasures. Alas, my affection for him succeeds in dragging my presence there far too frequently for my liking.”

“How trying for you,” Elizabeth commented, a bit tongue in cheek. He gave out a single laugh, more than a little amused at her honesty.

“It is rather,” he sighed, “I have succeeded in being a disappointment to my family, despite their efforts, I find politics and its people tiring, and my hearth and home more than enticing enough. As for towns other entertainments they have such little appeal, the people there always seem so on edge, unwelcoming, always wanting something,” he seemed to scowl a bit, as if remembering some unpleasant occurrence or other.

“I would admit some degree of agreement I suppose,” Elizabeth spoke as she considered his words, “I haven’t sprouted up any easy friendships with new acquaintances in London,” although she somewhat counteracted her words by smiling fondly thinking of her extended family there, “but my uncle has always said that there is a talent for making acquaintances in London,” she paused trying to recollect the words to perform them adequately, “people there are unable to connect to one another unless there is a strident purpose to do so, and if a purpose does not arise apparent, well, then logically,” she looked at Mr Henton to see if she had caught his interest, “they will become suspicious of the new acquaintance and cut off any further relations.”

Mr Henton gave a rather dark appreciating chuckle at that description. “How very accurate. He sounds like an astute man this uncle of yours,”

“On the majority, I would agree with you, except the gentleman himself resides in London, and has insistently demurred that he is the exception to his very own rule.”

“Of course he has.” They shared a smile. “Well, London hasn’t got a touch on the peaceful harmony that has blessed Hertfordshire. Even being so close to London, I fear my brother will struggle further to drag me to town. Do you yourself get to town often?” he inquired of his companion.

“Oh no, my Father hates town, to my mother’s infuriation,” she gave him a wry look, before smiling softly to continue, “but my uncle, aunt and their children are very dear to me, I wish I could see them more often.”

“I had thought not. It is rather unfortunate though that we had not had the means to become acquainted sooner, I believe my dislike for the season would have been lessoned somewhat among your lively presence.”

“It was probably for the best, it would not have done for us to fuel each other's sharp tongues as we drew witness to the peculiarities of the London society.”

“My dear Miss Elizabeth, you are harsh on me, I for one believe I would simply be an innocent bystander unable to curb my laugh at your delightful wit,” Mr Henton declared with a grin.

She rolled her eyes but Elizabeth couldn’t help but be flattered. The words were turned in humour, but she felt the genuine appreciation for her personality underneath. She knew she was not immune to the gentleman’s words and countenance.

There was an ease to Mr Henton’s presence that Elizabeth found familiar, but she had surprised herself at her own willingness to relax into his presence, especially after the turmoil of the morning. Mr Henton’s swift arrival had rather halted her intentions, but she found herself glad of the small respite having little hope that the rest of the day would follow suit.

She had of course planned to head downstairs and go straight to her father’s office after getting dressed, but on reaching the ground floor she had found her mother looking somewhat agitated, loitering at the bottom of the stairwell. She had looked towards her father’s door when her mother had grasped her hand firmly and pulled her attention. It seemed that Mr Henton had just arrived and while he was currently speaking to her sisters; she, that being Elizabeth, must not dally and was to go to him at once.

There was a gravity in her mother’s tone that was the antithesis of her usual behaviour, she wondered if she was not the only Bennet to eavesdrop that day, it certainly wouldn’t be a unprecedented performance in the Longbourn household. Her father had still been in his study, and while he must have heard the exchange, he made no presence to interfere with his wife’s mechanisms.

All withstanding, she had little chance to question either one of her parents as she was forcefully ushered into the drawing room where Jane and somewhat her younger sisters with little attention, were entertaining their guest.

As if sensing something in the air at Longbourn it was actually Mr Henton himself who suggested the stroll around the garden, before any of the Bennet daughters had a chance to respond her Mother had declared it a marvellous idea and swiftly waved all of them out of the room.

Jane, with the subtlety of their mother, took her younger sisters over to the pond leaving Elizabeth alone, or at least with the illusion of being alone, with Mr Henton.

“I was worried,” Mr Henton broke through Elizabeth’s thoughts, “that I would be visiting too early, even for country hours, but on my way here I happened to pass the gentleman your family introduced me to last night, Mr Darcy I believe?” Whatever illusion of peace Elizabeth had experienced in the past half hour seemed to drain away.

“Ah yes, Mr Darcy,” she attempted a smile but was almost certain she hadn’t been convincing, “He is an old acquaintance revisiting the area, he is here, was here,” she corrected herself, “to speak to my father regarding some business. I believe that they spoke at the ball last night but they must have had something further to discuss.”

“Business. Here for business,” he sounded relieved. Elizabeth knew right then that she should push him, give him more of a reason to reveal himself. Here was a good man, kind, lively, so similar in personality to herself that her heart should have been reaching out in joy at his clear indication of affection. He would make an easy companion, a partner she could respect and she even expected she would care for. A happy match. She was frustrated at her own nature, unsure as to why she wasn’t more attached to this man. Could she find it within herself to push for something she didn’t even know she wanted.

Still over the way, Lydia and Kitty were squabbling over something and Jane was trying her best to calm them down. Her young sisters were acting like children, because that’s what they were still, children who haven’t had the chance to become ladies. If she didn’t do something for her family they would never get that chance.

“Mr Henton, I just wanted to-”

“Lizzy!” Jane called out while sounding regretful; Elizabeth only had to look over to see she was still having trouble with the girls. What had begun in laughter now had turned to squabbling, as was often the case between siblings. She let out a sigh, unsure exactly what her feelings behind it were.

“I may not have a sister, but I can recognise a cry for help when I hear it,” Mr Henton was also looking over to other girls, with more than a little amusement, “I find myself feeling like I missed out on something, squabbles between brothers are rather less verbal.”

“If I was confident all you would witness _would be_ a verbal exchange I would continue our walk sir, as it is…I think I’d better head over there,” replied Elizabeth. Mr Henton raised an amused brow at that, looking over at the collection of petite young women.

“Shall we go into battle once more then Miss Bennet,” he offered her his arm, “At least on this occasion I believe your toes will escape the throws.”

“You sir, are clearly not acquainted with younger sisters,” she looked over to her family, feeling the embarrassment start to seep when Lydia managed to sidestep around Jane to throw leaves at Mary, missing her intended target completely setting an affronted Kitty to retaliate. “While I have enjoyed your visit Sir, I think it might be best,” Elizabeth trailed off with no little amount of embarrassment. She regretted asking the gentleman to leave but, frankly, she preferred to keep her family in some level of dignity in his eyes. The almost unavoidable scuffle that was going to take place between her younger sisters was she suspected a stretch one too far, even for a kind and understanding gentleman such as Mr Henton.

Mr Henton took the dismissal in his stride, “In that case, I shall simply guide you to them, and then flee the scene. Think me a coward if you shall Miss Elizabeth but with such insightful knowledge of your sisters, I’m afraid I cannot help but fear greatly for my own welfare,” he teased, trying to soothe her embarrassment, “Go help your sister, I fear her kind nature will do little against the oncoming war.”

“Unfortunately I think you might be right,” she paused looking away from the family scene to meet his attention, “Thank you for calling Mr Henton,”

“It has been my pleasure.”

~*~

The two sisters finally succeeded in bringing a level of serenity to their younger squabbling counterparts, sending the girls off in separate groups to make the peace. With her sisters occupied outside Elizabeth beseeches Jane who somewhat reluctantly agrees to stay outside and keep watching over the young Bennets should they return. Elizabeth knew she had no further excuse to delay and with a last grateful look to Jane, slipped away inside. She needed to speak with her father.

However on re-entering Longbourn it seemed she wasn’t the only Bennet seeking out the patriarch. Her father’s door, that had remained noticeably shut since Mr Darcy’s departure, was now wide open and the raised voices of Elizabeth’s parents could be heard down the hall.

“Tell her she must do it, she must do it Mr Bennet. If Mr Henton doesn’t propose this very minute, she must do this for us,” her mother beseeched, her words coated in panic.

Elizabeth chastised herself once again as she loitered before her father’s study, it seemed that despite Elizabeth’s good intentions it was turning out to be a day of ill manners.

“Out of the question!” cried her father, “Absolutely unacceptable.”

“But Mr Bennet-” her mother tried again.

“It is not her job to save this family,” stated Mr Bennet firmly.

“Who’s job is it Mr Bennet? Yours?” Mrs Bennet let out a disparaging laugh, “You caused this!”

“I know that,” he lashed back furiously, “I know full well what I have done madam, I know where my sins lie, I do not need you to remind me. I will not have our Lizzy degrade herself, simply to keep us in comfort.”

“Comfort! You think this is about comfort, this is a far cry from losing a few silk scarfs Mr Bennet,” Mrs Bennet’s voice cut through the air but drained away as she continued, “this is, this is everything. You’ve lost us everything,” her fresh sobs vibrated out of the study and seemed to sink into her daughter. Elizabeth closed her eyes and leaned against the wall.

Elizabeth wanted to go into the room tell her parents that she will do everything she can for her family, she wanted to flee back to the garden, chase after Mr Henton who was long gone by now and beg him to make her his wife, she wanted to hide in her room, until the sun turned back and the ball she was preparing to get ready for never happened. Even more, she would go back months, a year even, before she ever met Mr Darcy.

She couldn’t do any of these things so instead, she just stood there, listened to her mother cry, matching tears threatening her own eyes.

“I know my dear I know,” Mr Bennet murmured soothingly, “But I will find a way, there will be a way. We might just have to-”

“This is a way,” Mrs Bennet pleaded with her husband softly, “This is a way and you’re just too stubborn, _too proud_ to even consider it.” 

“I can’t, _we can’t,_ ” Mr Bennet sounded close to tears himself.

“What is your plan then?” Mrs Bennet pushed back.

“We will manage,” he reassured his wife, “The Gardeners have agreed to take Jane, Lizzie as well if they can afford to, and you…you will go to your sister’s and hopefully with a little persuasion, they will be able to take the younger girls too, if not, well I- I,” he collected himself, “we will manage.”

“That’s it? Do you simply hope my brother and sister will take us in? My relations being all that stand between us and the hedgerows? That- that is not a plan,” her mother’s voice rising, more at her usual vigour as sounds of pacing movements came from the room, “You think that the girls will have any kind of future here? _Everyone will know._ They will know that we have nothing. What sort of future will the girls have, marriage, prospects?” Mrs Bennet scoffed hysterically, “You’re a fool John,” she whispered cruelly.

Elizabeth hated that she agreed with her mother. Hated that her father’s kind protective words sounded so fruitless and delusional. It was not often that her mother could be the voice of reason, and this miraculous timing did nothing but flame the hurt she felt at her mother seemingly all too willing to sacrifice her.

“And Lizzy,” her father pushed back, “should she lose everything instead? She is our child too or have you forgotten.”

“I know that!” Mrs Bennet snapped back.

“ _You think”_ he pushed forward, “we should just cast all our misery upon her, cast her off to this man we barely know, to a life of being,” he stuttered tearing off into a temporary abyss as his mind tried to verbalise his daughter’s looming future, “To a life she was not meant to have,” he finished weakly.

“That is gone already. We can only protect the future of the other girls. Lizzy is not a child anymore.”

“But this is my fault, my responsibility,” said Mr Bennet. His ownership of their ruin cut even deeper than any of her mother’s comments. Elizabeth would have to tell him, to correct him otherwise the guilt would consume her. Her father had no idea of the history between her and Mr Darcy, how her rejection had most likely brought this to their door. Elizabeth knew that she should go in there, never should have been standing outside in the first place, but her heart was pounding painfully in her chest and her body had no intention of moving anywhere right then.

“And sending her of to this man will have to be your penance. If you see another way to fix this, then tell me, because you seemed very clear before,” Her mother clarified, “He owns everything we have, he owns our land, and he owns this house. We own no more than the poor souls in the poor house. Now I don’t know how Lizzie has managed it, maybe that child has finally shown some feminine initiative,” Elizabeth flinched strongly at her mother’s implications, “but without her we will have nothing. She may not like it, you may not like it, but Mr Darcy wants her. Are you so foolish not to realise that I would tell her to accept this arrangement even if the rest of us were still condemned? She will be with a man of significant means, so great that he has been able to purchase a whole spare estate to keep our family. It is quite evident husband, that he is more than desirous of the girl and she will damn well let him take her. She will do this, she will do this for herself, and she will do this for our family.”

“Do you even comprehend-” Mr Bennet cut himself off, disgust filling his tone, “what sort of Mother would-”

The sound of books hitting the floor made Elizabeth jump.

“Don’t you dare,” her mother’s voice wavered, “Don’t you dare put my practicality to shame why you cast to me empty pipedreams. Do you think I want this? My daughter a- a _play thing_ for that haughty man. As much as I berate that wild girl, she is my child! I wanted my children safely married, established in homes greater than this one. _You_ did this, you have brought this to our door. This is the only way out for our other children. Lizzie is smart, she will understand that even if you refuse to.”

It was Mr Bennets turn to scoff, “She does not even like the man!”

“What does that matter,” Mrs Bennet exclaimed, “He is handsome and rich enough, she does not need to like the man. She just needs to abide him and make some effort to keep his interest.”

He father let out a sound of disgust, “She was smart enough to turn down that fool Collins, she’ll do the same here.”

“You have no understanding of the girl if you don’t think she will see the difference. And if she doesn’t, I will damn well explain it to her.”

“There is more to this than an _arrangement,_ ” he spat out the term, “I do not trust his intentions in regards to her safety. He is aware of her dislike, and has pursued this avenue anyway.”

Mrs Bennet scoffed, “It is probably that dislike that has attracted the man. He wants to prove he can get anything he wants regardless of those involved. Well it turns out he’s right, and we should accept that.” There was a pause before Mrs Bennet calmed her tone, sounding like she was reassuring herself, “As long as Lizzy complies it is unlikely that he would hurt her, he seems the proper sort.”

“You don’t know that!” Mr Bennet rebuked.

Outside Elizabeth wrapped her arms around her. In truth Elisabeth hadn’t considered physical harm beyond the obvious expectations of a mistress. Not that particular aspect wasn’t of concern. It was, of a rather large uncomfortable magnitude both in concept and reality, and something she knew she would have to face at some point. But safety, brutality? She was aware that a darker side of society exists where husbands beat their wives and the world turned a blind eye to those blackened. She rather expected that mistresses would unlikely be exempt from the violent hand of man. But she truly hadn’t considered it. She envisioned degradation, discomfort certainly, discontent and misery most definitely, but danger? True physical danger? No she had not considered Mr Darcy being a violent man. The fact of the matter remained that in truth she knew very little of his true character and placing herself under the control of practically a stranger, a man who she had less than positive interactions with made the possibilities more likely.

“Well you don’t know that with any man. We wouldn’t even be having this conversation if he was offering marriage. It’s the risk a woman takes. A ring can be as much a noose, you should be glad she won’t have to suffer one if you distrust the man. As his mistress she can leave him, if he hurts her she can leave him and come back to us. But Lizzy is strong, she is smart, I believe she will endure.”

Elizabeth let out a breath, her mother was right at least in this it wasn’t forever. She wouldn’t belong to him. He wouldn’t own her. Not in law.

“Stop, just stop Madam. I will hear no more from you. Go, just go.” There was a few beats of silence where nobody made any movement, Mrs Bennet obviously not keen to leave the matter unsettled.

“I will go fetch Elizabeth then, she will make you see reason.” Mrs Bennet declared breaking the silence.

“No! Enough, I told you she is not to-”

“ _You can’t keep this from her,”_ Mrs Bennet scathed, “And she would not want you to.”

The sound of a hand slapping wood made Elizabeth jump.

“I will not ask my daughter,” Mr Bennet spat out, “ _to become a whore_.”

A loud gasp escaped her lips. Too loud to go unnoticed in the silence of the room that followed the slanderous term.

And it was damning.


	9. Confessions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So…it’s been a while…again. First a shout out for all the support, the comments especially, but also the kudos and bookmarks. Really appreciate them all.
> 
> This chapter is a big one, I think it’s 6K almost triple my earlier chapters, and certainly the longest so far. It did need a lot of attention which took time…but not quite the over a month you’ve had to wait.
> 
> Sorry, is all I can say sheepishly. 
> 
> Anyway I do hope you enjoy the below confrontation. Enjoy!

**Chapter Nine**

**Confessions**

It took spare seconds for her mother to emerge catching her daughter in her incongruous behaviour. If her gasp hadn’t been telling enough, Elizabeth’s pale cheeks and wide eyes provided a mother more than enough evidence that she’d heard the most damning part of her parent’s conversation. Her mother’s own appearance wasn’t much better, but she took in the distressed appearance of her second eldest daughter with concern.

“Lizzy you were supposed to be outside,” she spoke sharply and pointlessly, unable to take in the consequences of her daughter’s presence out in the hall. “Lizzy, dear, that isn’t, what you’ve heard - It is not how we would have liked to…,”

Elizabeth could do nothing but stand there as her mother struggled to conform. She supposed there was a difference between words spoken in apparent private and being able to confess and confirm such truths in the face of the one who would suffer from them. Alas, this acknowledgement did very little to soothe the churning Elizabeth felt.

“Well now you know,” her mother finally settled on, to herself mainly, but with a glare back through the doorway at her husband, she spoke significantly harsher, “She knows and that’s what’s important. There can be no more hiding it,” she returned to face her daughter, deliberately softening her tone and expression before she spoke.

“It is for the best you know Lizzie, really,” she pushed, making small moving gestures with her hands, “you’ll be secure, your sisters will be able to make matches and I know that you care enough that you’ll-” she cut herself of, reconsidering that avenue completely seeing that her words were doing little to soothe the expression of panic on her child’s face. She moved to reach out, perhaps to offer what little comfort she could but then seemed to think better of it when her hand shook.

Elizabeth couldn’t help but find some sort of comfort in that, at least her mother wasn’t as unaffected as her previous words led her to seem. Nevertheless, she couldn’t help put admire how pragmatic her usually silly mother appeared to be when the solution was the cast Elizabeth, her least favoured daughter, into ruin. The steady insecurities of her mother’s favouritism for her other daughters was rightly enflamed, and Elizabeth could do little more than bite her tongue and meet her mother’s gaze. Her mother was right after all, Elizabeth herself had come to that conclusion.

Mrs Bennet having abandoned her attempt at comfort instead choose to steady her own hands smoothing down her dress with firm strokes. Hands finding her pocket she took out a handkerchief that in itself must have suffered whilst conversing with her husband. Linen so creased it resembled more of a rag. She attempted to shake it out to little success, pitfully returning her attention to her daughter, “Go in and speak to your father. Speak to your father, and consider carefully Lizzy,” she paused considering her words, “what you choose will affect us all.” Mrs Bennet stared at Elizabeth for a pause or two seemingly wanting to say more, but unable to. Instead she stroked a hand down her daughters sleeve and placed the barely soothed white fabric in Elizabeth’s weak hand with a strong squeeze, before moving past her daughter and down the hall.

Once again Elizabeth found herself rooted to a spot unsure if she wanted to proceed or not, she looked down at the slip of fabric in her hand. Some mockery of a ruined white flag.

She let the handkerchief slip to the floor.

“Come in Lizzy,” her father’s voice beckoned.

Her father was sitting in the armchair to the side of the room, his head lowered. As Elizabeth drew closer she could see his hands clasped tightly together indenting white pressure rings around his knuckles.

“Papa,” he didn’t even look up at her voice. She went to him further and knelt, this close she could see that his tightly clasped hands were doing little to negate their shaking. She placed a hand gently on top of his barely stilling them, “Papa, please look at me.”

“Lizzie,” his voice broke through as he looked up at his daughter searching her face, taking note of her eyes. Eyes that must have held some telling aspect as he closed his own in response breathing out roughly before addressing her. “You heard. More than just the, well, I hope more than just the last bit?” he gave her a somewhat sad sheepish look, clearly not sure if he preferred that she was aware of the full conversation or just the rather unfavourable term he had used to describe the arrangement Mr Darcy had proposed.

“Yes,” she swallowed, giving her father an attempt at a smile, “well enough that I know what’s expected of me. I think understand.”

He took his hands gently from beneath his daughters, moving them instead to cover her somewhat smaller and more fragile specimens, sheltering them in his grasp.

“Nothing is expected of you Lizzie. _Nothing_ , you hear me.” Elizabeth looked down biting her lip. They both knew that wasn’t true. Sitting up properly Mr Bennet drew his free hand over his tired face, “I don’t want this for you,” he spoke firmly, desperately, trying to instil a certainty neither of them felt into his words, “I don’t want you anywhere near him.”

“Father I,” started Elizabeth, “I don’t think I have much of a choice,” she tried for a wry smile, attempting to cheer her father up, “On this very rare occasion I think Mama may be right.” It fell on deaf ears. If anything her father looked even more distressed than before.

“But I can’t let you. It’s all my fault Lizzie, it’s all my fault and I- I can’t _fix it_ ,” his voice broke. He had never been a stern man her father, nor one to shy from his emotions when the occasion had called for it, but seeing a father broken like this took something from her, something that Elizabeth didn’t think she would gain back.

“No father, no I don’t believe it,” Elizabeth tried to comfort him, her words certain, “whatever has happened, you are not to blame.” She tried to find a way to explain her own history, that the target painted on their back was due to her, that whatever that man had done to her family was _her fault._ It had to be her fault. In truth it was only right that it would cost her to fix it. The admission felt dry on her tongue, “Mr Darcy has a.. _a vendetta_ , whatever he has done-”

“No child, no,” Mr Bennet looked at her softly, willing her to understand, “he is not to blame, _I_ made the investments. I kept borrowing and” he closed his eyes at his foolish actions, “He is taking advantage yes, pressing a _dishonourable advantage,_ ” he looked away from his young daughter swallowing where those words lead, “but he isn’t the cause.” Her father shook his head, “Such foolhardy investments. Your Uncle, even he cautioned me, but I didn’t listen, I didn’t-”

Keeping a grasp on her reality, Elizabeth remained firm withdrawing her hands completely standing up, “No Mr Darcy did this, Mr Darcy _caused this_.”

“No, no Lizzy not directly, he simply _acquired the debt_. It is the only reason we are still in this house right now, in truth we should have been lost months ago. I was trying to find a way to fix everything. I borrowed more money to repay what I had lost, to delay losing the estate, but then the interest, god I can’t believe I-” he dropped his head in his hands.

“He acquired the debt.” Elizabeth repeated the words taking a step back as she turned the words over in confusion. “We are in debt. In debt to Mr Darcy,” Her father made no move to elaborate and relieve her confusion. Wanting to pull her at her hair in frustration but choosing a less painful route she walked away. Her hands imprisoning a brunch of her skirts, finding herself missing that handkerchief she’d carelessly tossed aside. She couldn’t afford to ruin her dresses anymore. She released the fabric almost as quickly, the creased lines still visible as she span around to face her father again who was now watching her carefully, “So what? He’s faultless? I can’t even hate him?”

Mr Bennet let out a pitiful laugh, framed in sorrow, “Christ child no, hate away. I believe in his desire to,” he swallowed, “ _have you_ , he simply bought himself some,” he near enough spat out the word, “ _leverage_. He bought an estate so heavy in debt, few men would take on such a figure for such a small acquisition.” He looked over to his daughter, “Why he has picked you out I cannot say, but it was not a simple kindness charity, he is a man wanting his _just reward,”_ her father looked about as disgusted as Elizabeth felt at the thought. She turned away from him once more, choosing to look out the window for a retreat, it was an easier audience. She needed to say it out loud.

“He wants me to become his mistress,” she couldn’t help but tear up the last word in her throat. It was a polite title, one that was even termed to the wife of a proud estate. But there would be no such flattery in this arrangement. Her father had termed it right. Mistress without marriage was simply a well-paid whore.

It wasn’t exactly news to her, if she hadn’t already had an idea about what Mr Darcy wanted from her she may have broken down right there and then, thrown a book or two, begged her father to damn her sisters and be done with it. But those were the actions of a child screaming to the walls that the world isn’t fair. She kept her tears at bay. She couldn’t see them from this side of the house, but her sisters were out there, her mother too maybe. She couldn’t leave them homeless, she couldn’t abandon them, she knew anyone of them, or at least Jane would take her place in a heartbeat would that they could.

“Lizzy I will find another option,” her father insisted on his fool’s errand. Elizabeth just shook her head, still staring out the window. Her acceptance seemed to make Mr Bennet even more determined to find another solution, “Mr Darcy is, well I don’t believe he has good intentions, despite his claims,” he kept his gaze on his daughters back, waiting for her to turn back to him, “He is aware of your dislike of him,” he spoke carefully.

Elizabeth shut her eyes, but didn’t turn around.

“Lizzy, I am certainly not accusing you of anything,” her father treaded softly, “but there seems to be more to this Mr Darcy than a mere acquaintance. The debt he has taken on for little material gains…If there is something more than an acquaintance I would prefer to know.”

“Barely,” Elizabeth whispered to the window, “Father, that is, I mean,” she couldn’t even find the words, almost growling out in frustration as they came to her; “we were _barely acquainted_. That is what is so absurd, _so ridiculous_ about this, about _him_. I must have only spent spare occasions with the man, a few verbal exchanges... Nothing of notable significance,” Elisabeth declared as she ran through all their interactions before that day at Hudson. The words swarmed her now, almost incessantly, “You are aware that since his slight of me at the ball I had not looked upon the man favourably. On our further meetings his general countenance continued to be poor, and even other parties spoke ill of him. But in truth, my dislike of the man was distanced, I knew so little of him, and expected that I would have little occasion, nor will, to know more.”

How she wished that was how it had remained, a man she had simply crossed paths with, a few unsavourily interactions never to be thought upon again. How had fate placed such a possibility so far from her reach.

“When his own cousin,” she found herself continuing, words tinged with bite and mockery, “told me that he’d boasted on how he’d torn Mr Bingley away from such a unsuitable connection, that he prided himself on acting the friend, whispering doubts in trusting ears and congratulating himself on such resounding success,” she felt that familiar anger a fresh at the man for hurting Jane so very deeply with so little thought causing pain. “I don’t think I’ve ever hated a man more.” Her father said nothing, listening intently to what his daughter was saying.

“And then,” Elizabeth swallowed, “And then, he proposed to me,” she finished bluntly.

“What! Lizzy-” Elizabeth winced at her father’s tone, but continued, unwilling to stop there.

“He proposed after only knowing me for, what must have added up to only a handful of days of acquaintance, he _proposed marriage_ to me, an arrangement that lasts a lifetime,” she exclaimed in utmost disbelief at voicing the man’s actions aloud, even now the thought of such a presentation from the man seemed absurd to her. “Even if I hadn’t decided he was the worst man alive for ruining Jane’s chance of happiness, he chose to bless me with a rather unique proposal.” Finally having the courage to face her father she turned around, seeing she had her father’s apt attention, “He expressed his struggle of how he had fought against his feelings, told me how my family were basically social priers and how he had decided to gracefully rise above his distain to allow himself to offer for me,” she gave a slightly broken scoff at the ridiculous words he had sprouted. Her father was looking at her dumbfounded.

“He had taken no note or care of my feelings throughout his apparent attentions,” Elizabeth continued, “had expressed no intention of courtship or affection before that point, and yet somehow expected me to have been anxiously expecting and welcoming of his offer.”

“You” her father stuttered, “you refused him?” He clarified.

“Yes” Elizabeth confirmed softly, beseechingly, trying not to attack her dress folds again as she attempted to get a read on her father’s judgement, “For all the reasons I’ve said but also simply because…I did not care for him father, not even in kindness. To marry a man I barely knew, and from what I did, I scarcely liked, seemed like the recipe for misery. Fine houses and riches aside…”

Thinking of their current situation now, a fine house and riches may not have been so easy to have dismissed all those months ago. Still she still could not bring herself to regret her decision. He may not have been Mr Collins, but she had judged him a fool and a brute of a different kind. If anything she was quite certain that she had judged Mr Darcy’s countenance too softly when compared to his current actions. Her father however, may see it differently, “Please father, I hope-”, she began. Mr Bennet held up a firm hand.

“Calm yourself Lizzy, easy. I am not mad, nor may I point out am I your dear mother,” he gave her a weak smile, which in her worry Elizabeth couldn’t find it in herself to return even as he continued kindly, “I can see quite rightly why you refused him. I would have, in fact, advised you to do so” he let out a small huff, “ _if_ , that is, I had been allowed to be involved in the matter of my daughter’s marriage prospects at all,” he finished with a pointed look. Elizabeth started to apologise again but her father waved her defence away.

“That fault is again with Mr Darcy’s, he should not have spoken to you without speaking to me. But, that does not exclude your silence after the act though my dear. Although with your mother,” Mr Bennet trailed off, lifting a hand in understanding, “I can see that with the debacle of Mr Collins why you kept numb around the whole thing.”

“Yes, yes that’s it exactly,” Elizabeth let out, relieved, “I never expected any more to come from it, I never even expected to see the man again. Still, forgive me Father.” Mr Bennet just gave her a wry smile, giving some slight humour to the irony to her apology.

“I dare say, my dear, that I shall forgive you this small thing, and many other sins in the future. Without a doubt any sins of yours will have little effect on the scales between us. They shall weigh heavy at my door far beyond my lifetime I suspect.”

“No father-”

“Your refusal,” Mr Bennet spoke over words he did not deserve and returned to the matter at hand, “he took it poorly I assume? No creature likes to be refused, but I would expect it Mr Darcy would take to it rather less well, having, I presume, such limited experience with the concept.”

“He did not take it well,” she confirmed nervously, and turned away from her father again to the safety of the window, attempting a lighter tone for her further confessions, “admittedly the manner of my refusal was significantly less kind than I should have been.”

“ _Elizabeth,”_ her father spoke with a groan, knowing his daughters temper well.

“After being pushed with such…invective words I was somewhat angered at his presumption.” She closed her eyes, recalling her own words that day, “I spoke bluntly, but truthful.” she insisted, “we aired the truths surrounding Jane and Mr Bingley, which he admitted, I digressed on how he had treated Mr Wickham, which he laughed off and refused to comment on, his own ungentlemanly behaviour and-” she trailed off slightly, “I may have been quite decisive in my answer and stated how he would be the last man on earth I could be prevailed to marry,” Elizabeth gave a weak laugh, “So you see father, it is me who has brought this particular wolf to our door.”

Her father at least was a man familiar with Elizabeth’s quick temper and sharper tongue, having suffered himself from such ailments.

“That was not well done Lizzie to anger a man already stung, as I’m sure you well know,” he let the chastise lull in the air, “however you could not have foreseen our current affairs Lizzy, nor the severity of the reaction,” her father insisted, “It was my actions that let him in, you should have been well protected from such things. You should have been protected from this _situation_.”

Situation, another term used to skate around her future. The room seemed to breathe with the weight of her admissions, although her own chest seemed forever burdened. She felt her rather unpleasant future creeping ever closer thoughts of leaving her family, her home, to a future of uncertainty under the power of a man she barely knew. The room felt colder than a fire should allow, she rubbed her arms subconsciously to ward off this persistent inner chill.

Her father took the action literally and stood up and removed the guard to stoke the fire. It would do little for her she suspected, this cold was untouched by nature. For a few minutes the familiar sound of her father’s tending and the peaceful image the window gave her the necessary lull to collect herself.

However this conversation wasn’t over, her admission was only one piece of the puzzle, and only her father could complete it. She turned around to face the room once more, taking the steps closer, standing behind one of the arm chairs waiting for her father to finish with the fire.

The man in question seemed to sense the looming conversation and made to delay it a spell, ignoring his daughters approach as he tended the roaring flames quite extensively. At last, admitting his efforts futility he chucked on an extra log and stretched up to the mantel staring down into the flames.

Elizabeth, sensing her father’s reluctance, broke the quiet, “I need to know your side father. All of it, please. Tell me what happened.” Her father closed his eyes, but gave a firm nod at the request.

“Yes I suppose you do. You at the very least deserve that.” But he didn’t turn towards her, instead he left the comfort of the fireplace and went over to his desk. His hand flittering over a tumbler of golden spirit, deciding to abandon it instead with a clenched fist looking to his daughter, seeing her arms still wrapped around her small form, taking in her worried face. Not for the first time realising just how young his daughter was, and how little age mattered to the world.

“Take a seat Lizzy, you’re cold, I can see you shaking from here,” he spoke quietly. Elizabeth didn’t bother correcting him, the true admission of her shiver would do neither of them any good and in truth maybe the comforting warmth from the fire would indeed help soothe her. She did appreciate her father’s efforts all the same, that in itself was some comfort.

The warmth licked her skin as she took her seat, watching the fire fight for control. Its greatest flames licked the upper bricks of its prison trying to find its way out. With the guard now removed, embers spat out angrily in their attempt to escape the hearth, but they soon lost their glow turning lifeless, becoming soot on the stone.

Her father cleared his throat jolting Elizabeth from the flames, “Ask Lizzy, I will not hide a thing from you. Not now.”

Elizabeth swallowed, there really was no soft footing, “How did it all go so wrong,” she asked, clarifying futher needlessly, “to cost us the house, the land, everything?”

Mr Bennet wiped a hand over his stubble accepting his daughter’s bluntness, his spare hand now firmly grasping the golden drink, draining the remainder. He looked over at the Tantalus across the room with consideration, but instead abandoned his empty glass to his desk and made his way to sit across from his daughter.

“I hope you’ll believe me,” he began slowly, earnestly, “when I say I had only good intentions.” He wiped a hand over his face, “You have no doubt heard stories of men gambling away dowries on dice and cards. No, Lizzy, I promise you, that wasn’t it.”

This surprised Elizabeth very little, her father despite his flaws would never have been so remiss as to throw his daughters futures away on a whim of games.

“I just wanted you to have more.” Mr Bennet continued, “For all of you to have more. I have often been accused of being too remiss in managing your futures, from your uncles in particular. And with Jane’s heartbreak it crossed my mind that maybe if her dowry was a little more attractive, then perhaps…” he waved a hand into the ether, letting it fall harshly onto the arm rest, gripping the curve of the wood. “I saw an advertisement about an opportunity. A new insurance company looking for a group of investors to provide start-up capital. It was a thousand minimum to gain start-up shares, but I knew your uncle had invested in similar companies in the past and done somewhat well,” Mr Bennet shook his head, “I, like the fool, took this as the rule.”

“Oh father,” Elisabeth spoke softly, trying to push into those words all that she felt.

Her father simply turned his head to the fire, “I remember feeling so damn proud Lizzie, I was so confident that this, this choice was finally a good one, and our family could only benefit from it,” he shook his head, “I was such a fool,” his voice cutting out as he delivered his self-assigned verdict.

“Father-” Elizabeth spoke again, reaching out attempting to provide some level of compassion but her father waved her away.

“The company was hit by increasing amount of claims so early on, it was unexpected, unprecedented or so they tell me. From there it was just a hole that I found myself sinking. If I wanted anything back from my investment I had to provide more funds to keep the business alive, to help it weather the storm,” he tried to explain, looking at Elizabeth to see if she was following along, eyes helplessly starting to flicker to her face and down to his grasping hands on the wooden chair arms, “Within mere months the money was gone.”

Elizabeth closed her eyes. It wasn’t as if she didn’t know how this story ended, but to hear it so bluntly, spoken so painfully by the man she esteemed so greatly, set alight a new agony. She changed her mind, she didn’t want to hear anything more, she didn’t want to share in the painful tale that could have been avoided, could have been stopped. It didn’t matter none of it mattered anymore.

But her father continued unaware, seemly speaking to himself, providing his justification, “I kept thinking I just needed to put more money in to get the money back, I knew, _I knew_ I’d stop the moment I had it back, the very moment I’d recovered all that we had lost. Luck would turn, it couldn’t continue in this vain forever. But I never,” her father swallowed, “I couldn’t get it back.”

“But for how long, why didn’t you…” she began, but her father was shaking his head before she could even finish the question

“I wish I had, you or Jane especially, maybe you would have talked some sense into me, stopped me from what I was about to do….but I couldn’t face you,” her father continued, “and Lord, to confide in your mother, your mother who has fits of nerves over the slightest of things, who panics about these imaginary hedgerows every beat of the hour. How could I tell my wife that she was right to be afraid. To put her, any of you in that state of panic? No, I wanted to protect you from it all.” Then her father scoffed, “and in such heroism, I managed to protect myself from the shame at the same time,” he gave a dark chuckle filled with self deprecation. Elizabeth could do nothing but listen.

His repeated self-flagellation was bitter for a daughter to witness. And yet, somewhere in his confession Elizabeth couldn’t help but feel a rise of her own anger. So helpless that she was to her own future, a woman, a daughter, so powerless in this world that she had no choice but to entrust her safety to the man who sat before her. Her father’s actions, though had clearly pained him severely, could have been avoided had she, Jane, even her mother had been consulted on their future. Though she loved her father dearly, she found herself having to reign in her frustration at the foolhardy spiral he had refused to acknowledge.

“No this mess was mine and it was up to me to fix it, you would have nothing otherwise, and if Janes merger dowry was turned away before, penniless girls wouldn’t even be looked at. No I thought to myself, I just couldn’t let that happen so I,” he paused, looking away from his child, “So I took money on the estate.”

“You took money on- ” Elizabeth’s control over her tongue broke, eyes starting to sting, “How could you, father, just how could you risk it.”

“I didn’t know then, I didn’t. I promise you Lizzy, I never would have risked our home I- I had thought that…. The estate, because at the time it was entailed so it would only be the income from the land. But when the entail broke…” he trailed off, looking over to the fire. As if sensing his gaze, it spat out at them angrily, an ember landing at his feet. This more than anything brought his mind back as he moved quickly to stamp it out.

Elizabeth had watched the proceeding with a sort of detachment, she was not certain had her father not moved to quench the spark that she herself would have done the deed. Longborn after all was no longer theirs. Seeing it go up in flames at that moment might actually have brought her some relief. Instead she found herself observing the black sooted rug with some regret, and she kept her eyes on it as she spoke some harsh truths, “But you did know father. You knew it was a possibility, you _knew_ you were trying to break it, the entail, you told us that-”

“Yes,” her father snapped, for the first time showing something other than sorrow and regret at his chastising daughter, “Yes Lizzy I had put things in motion, I had made loose enquiries, months before all of this - but I didn’t think – not for a moment did I actually think that-”, his rough tone continued, “you don’t understand Lizzy, it’s easy to say now, but the chance that it would happen were so slim, so minimal that I felt the risk was also-” Elizabeth stood up and went round the back of her chair unable to just sit there any longer, the action ending her father’s speech as he watched her.

The cracking of the fire spoke more in the following moments than either of the room’s inhabitants. While Elizabeth had never connected with her mother, her father was incredibly dear to her. Even though their tempers were similar they rarely had a cross word between them. Even as a child, it was more of a chastisement on her slightly less than ladylike endeavours, and firm toned words barely dimmed Mr Bennet’s thinly vailed amusement when faced with a wide eyed mud drenched child.

She loved all her family dearly, and she wasn’t blind to their faults, but never had any of their actions so fundamentally endangered them all, and besides dear Jane, she hadn’t expected this consequence from her father of all her family members. It made her anger at him painful, sharp and more resentful. She had taken the steps away to try and find her sense of calm to some success, but it was difficult.

It was the elder who broke the lull first.

“Lizzie I never meant to-”

“I know,” she snapped, unable to help it. Then she was annoyed at her own tone, among all of his faults her father did not suffer a lack of guilt. She knew he brought about his own suffering enough for it to be cruel to verbally attack him. She took a breath and tried again, “I know.”

“I deserve it, I deserve your anger.”

“The entail,” she levelled her voice, ignoring that live statement, “you never did explain how you broke it. It seems so cruel; we were all so overjoyed when mother read out your letter.”

“Yes, I remember,” Mr Bennet gave her a weak smile, “that will teach me to dilly dally the morning away and leave your mother unattended with the post.” he grimaced, “It was less me, more Mr Collins we have to thank for that. Fools run in the family It seems, do be wary of that Lizzy,” he added as a side note, Elizabeth couldn’t quite manage a smile at his attempt to lighten their disagreement. “Mr Collins let something slip about his father being the elder sibling not the younger. It didn’t make sense, my father; the younger son inherited the estate?” Mr Bennet shook his head, “Something beyond the norm must have gone on, although I know nothing of it.”

“And that matters?” Elizabeth made her way around the chair, listening to her father’s explanation.

“Normally not that much, but I remembered my father saying that the ties between his brother were cut before he was even a man. It gave me cause to wonder, if my father was the younger son when they cut my uncle out of the inheritance, what age was he.”

“He wasn’t one and twenty,” Elizabeth realised, taking her seat back.

“No, it turns out he wasn’t. He was three months shy when he co-signed to renew to entail with your great grandfather, who consequently died a mere month after the signing, or so my lawyer and these documents tell me,” he waved a hand at his desk littered with papers and books in no distinguable order, “The entail should never have been put on my offspring, by rights after my death the entail is broken and the estate should of gone to our dear Jane.”

“Jane was actually an heiress,” said Elizabeth

“Yes, yes I suppose she was. Mr Collins was after more than just her beauty I believe.”

“You think he knew?” she questioned with some surprise.

“Oh yes, now I am quite certain of it,” her father spoke grimly, “I think there was a lot more behind his marriage proposal than a charitable connection. He, like us, expected an engagement with Mr Bingley, and so turned his attentions to you. He may have been a fool, but now I cannot believe he thought you, with your spirit and intellect, a suitable match for him. But with one of my daughters he would have a stronger claim should this have ever come to light after my death, not to mention control of our family’s welfare.” Elizabeth grimaced at the thought of that.

“Yes,” her father spread his arms out wide, “don’t you see Lizzy how I and I alone have created our tragedy. If I had questioned the entail previously, Jane would have been a much more appealing wife and be happily married to Mr Bingley by now; your mother wouldn’t be half the wreck she is; Mr Darcy would not have been able to buy the debt and Longbourn, in fact he wouldn’t even be in the picture. Instead with my foolishness I have ruined us.”

“Not yet,” Elizabeth took a breath, “we are not ruined yet.”

“Lizzy-” but was cut off when Elizabeth reached over to take one of his hands.

“We cannot change the past,” she spoke with some effort, “and this is the situation we are in, and for whatever reason I am the way out of it. As long as you, Ma and my sisters remain here untarnished,” Elizabeth gave a quick smile, “it will be worth it.”

“I’m not sure it will be, to have you escape the clutches of that oaf Mr Collins only to end up under the power of Mr Darcy - Lizzy,” he grasped her hand between his, looking at her earnestly, “Lizzy I promise it will not be forever, I will find a way to fix this, to pay off the debt.”

“I know. I know you will try,” she gave weakly.

“And if it becomes too much, if he… hurts you. Do not think that we, that is all of us, wouldn’t give this life up.” Elizabeth could only answer with a smile, she wasn’t sure that was true, and it was a redundant platitude anyway, once she became a mistress, even with her identity protected, she couldn’t fall back to her family, it would make everything she was about to sacrifice redundant. Her father however seemed somewhat satisfied at her smile and so released her hand letting her pull back to her seat.

“There are other things to discuss Lizzy, before we speak to Mr Darcy. Aspects of a… personal nature, assurances of your care with him, your future, discretion and… potential consequences…but forgive me but I think it’s best to save these for another day, with, well… with your mother present too to assist in those conversations.” Mr Bennet blustered slightly, causing Elizabeth some likewise embarrassment. Talking about such things with one’s parent she suspected would never be comfortable, even more so in regards to relations outside of the arms of matrimony.

“Unfortunately now that he has made his intentions clear I do not think Mr Darcy to be a patient man.”

“No father, I fear you are right.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed that! Not sure if it's a bit too heavy and convoluted but I couldn't sit on/ or rewrite this chapter any longer. I know that there might be a few people who fundamentally can't get past the entailed estate, but I promise I have looked into this, this is a legitimate legal premise for an entail to be broken, and while I could go into it further... I really don't think that what people enjoy reading.
> 
> Personally, I so desperately want to write more Darcy and Lizzy and I'm sure that's what you're here for too. Thankfully that's up next!
> 
> Reviews are precious, they really do make all the time and effort worth it, so if you can spare the time, please let me know what you think. Constructive feedback and alternative views are welcome.
> 
> Stay safe out there dear readers x


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